That nobleman was stepping out upon a balcony to learn the cause of the disturbance below, but turned back on seeing Don Pedro. “What brawl is this at my door?” he asked in no pleasant tone. “I have taken it upon myself to disregard the passport of your excellency, and arrest the men you dismissed a moment ago.” “Ha!” interrupted Santa Cruz, frowning. “And why, sir?” “I suspect them to be the assassins of my colleague,” the knight returned; “I have proof to that effect by which you can judge if I have done more than my duty, señor.” “Speak on,” the other said, and Padilh at once gave a brief narrative of the events within his knowledge. At the end, the marquis said: “I was hasty in thinking you over zealous. These fellows must be brought face to face with their accuser, and to make that sure, their examination shall be immediate. Send quickly for the Moor you speak of—but how is it that you are without a cap, Don Pedro?” “I met the viceroy bare-headed,” the knight answered, with honest bluntness. At which Santa Cruz, something nettled, exclaimed: “By the three kings! You will teach us presently to be worthy our spurs!” The captors of the unfortunate viceroy returned to the presence of the marquis with no good grace. “Answer no questions,” Hilo muttered to the captain, “and they can prove nothing.” But both were startled by the appearance of a witness they believed beyond the power of lifting a finger, and leagues away. Hilo uttered a savage oath of surprise, and Wolfang stood staring at the former mute, with his villainous mouth agape. Both heard the deposition read through and affirmed, without interfering or replying a syllable to any questions asked. The captain’s animal spirits had quite deserted him, and sullenness gave his face strong resemblance to a bull’s, while his fellow prisoner’s sharp features suited the cat-like activity of his eyes. “The evidence is complete enough,” the marquis exclaimed finally; “and, by Heaven, gentlemen, these villains shall swing within twenty-four hours. Off with their sorry disguises, and let us see if they will persist in their insolence still.” But Hilo, without waiting for the enforcement of the order, threw his peasant’s frock from him. “If you call yourself Don Pedro de Padilh,” he cried to the knight, “take this gall to your pride. All Spain shall know before I die whose uncle you are, and that you brought your own blood to this strait; I swear it here before all the saints, and can prove my words.” “I beg you, sir, to make no account of my relationship,” Padilh said smiling to Santa Cruz. “In good season, gentlemen, you will understand this innuendo.” “I am not to be led astray by such a fellow’s lies,” the marquis replied, with a contemptuous laugh. “We have had enough of their company, señores, and leave them to you, Padilh, to have cared for. Only see that escape is made impossible.”