He was going to reply when madame interposed. To do her justice she took up my cause with a right good will. She repeated all I had previously told her, gave him a graphic account of what had passed, lauded me to the skies, and ended by declaring her absolute conviction that every word I had spoken was the truth. Feeling that my case was in safe hands, I let them have it out together. He was suspicious, and at every proof of this, her anger and indignation increased. “I have accepted Mr. Donnington’s word, Dr. Barosa,” she said hotly, when he declared that I ought not to be allowed to leave the house; “and I have given him a pledge for his safety. You know me, and that I will keep my word. Very well, I declare to you on my honour that if any harm comes to him now, I will abandon the cause and reveal everything I know about it and all concerned in it.” That shook all the opposition out of him on the spot. “You are at liberty to go, Mr. Donnington,” he said at once. “Thank you; but what about your friends out there?” “I will leave the house with you,” declared madame. “And we will see if any one will dare to try and stop you.” “It might be simpler if they were to go first,” I suggested. “I will answer for them,” said Barosa. “We have your word that you will not speak of anything you have learned here to-night?” “Yes, I pledge my word,” I replied. “Let me thank you once more, Mr. Donnington----” began madame. But I stopped her. “We can call the account between us squared, madame. If I helped you out of one mess you have got me out of this. And for the rest, silence for silence. We shall not meet again.” “Are you staying long in the city, sir?” asked Barosa with a suggestion of eagerness in his tone. “Not an hour longer than my business here renders necessary. I am not so delighted with my experiences so far as to wish to remain.” He left the room then and after a hurried conference with the fellows outside he called to us and we left the house. With what relief I drew the first breath of the fresh night air will be readily understood; but I do not think I fully realized how narrow an escape I had had until I was safe in my rooms and sat recalling the incidents of the strange adventure. Who was the woman I had helped? Not a hint had been dropped of her name; but that she was a person of as much importance in the world outside as in the ranks of the revolutionary party of which she was a leader, I could not doubt. That the conspiracy was being carried on in the interest of the Pretender was fairly certain, seeing that this Beriardos, or Barosa, as he now called himself, was mixed up in it; and I resolved to write at once to Madrillo to send me everything he knew about him.