“‘These Inquisitors here are cruel beasts, though fonder of money than of blood; for all their talk about zeal for the Faith is so much wind behind the mountains. They care as much for the Faith as the mountain cares for the wind, or, let us say, as I do. They wanted to torture the poor devil, thinking that he would rain maravedis; but I gave a hint in the right quarter, and their fun was stopped. Carissima, I must stop also; it is my hour for duty, but I hope to meet you as arranged, and we will have a merry evening. Love to the newly married marquis, if you meet him, and to yourself you know how much. “‘Your      “‘HENRIQUES.  “‘POSTSCRIPTUM.—This position will scarcely be as remunerative as I hoped, so I am glad to be able to earn a little outside, enough to buy you a present that will make your pretty eyes shine.’ “There!” said Inez mildly, “I think that covers everything, and would burn you three or four times over. Let me read it to see that it is plainly written and properly signed, for in such matters a good deal turns on handwriting. Yes, that will do. Now you understand, don’t you, if anything goes wrong about the matter we have been talking of—that is, if the worthy John Castell is not rescued, or a smell of our little plot should get into the wind—this letter goes at once to the right quarter, and a certain secretary will wish that he had never been born. Man!” she added in a hissing whisper, “you shall die by inches as my sister did.” “A thousand doubloons if the thing succeeds, and you live to claim them,” croaked old Israel. “I do not go back upon my word. Death and shame and torture or a thousand doubloons. Now he knows our terms, blindfold him again, Señor Bernaldez, and away with him, for he poisons the air. But first you, Inez, be gone and lodge that letter where you know.” That same night two cloaked figures, Peter and Bernaldez, were rowed in a little boat out to where the Margaret lay in the river, and, making her fast, slipped up the ship’s side into the cabin. Here the stout English captain, Smith, was waiting for them, and so glad was the honest fellow to see Peter that he cast his arms about him and hugged him, for they had not met since that desperate adventure of the boarding of the San Antonio. “Is your ship fit for sea, Captain?” asked Peter. “She will never be fitter,” he answered. “When shall I get sailing orders?” “When the owner comes aboard,” answered Peter. “Then we shall stop here until we rot; they have trapped him in their Inquisition. What is in your mind, Peter Brome?—what is in your mind? Is there a chance?” “Aye, Captain, I think so, if you have a dozen fellows of the right English stuff between decks.” “We have got that number, and one or two more. But what’s the plan?” Peter told him. “Not so bad,” said Smith, slapping his heavy hand upon his knee; “but risky—very risky. That Inez must be a good girl. I should like to marry her, notwithstanding her bygones.”