"I do not claim the name of a spy, senor, but it would be foolish of me to deny that I am in the secret diplomatic service of my country--that my presence here has been to discover why Spanish agents congregate in Dublin. As to why I am under your roof, it is a purely personal matter that drew me. I chanced to be passing and saw your niece at the window. Resolved to make my peace with her I boldly demanded admittance, and she has been angel enough to forgive. Senor, that is all--you believe me?" Roderic was a man whose very face was a passport among his fellows. What he said usually carried weight. Of old he had exerted great influence over the don, who had almost loved him as his own at the time jealousy broke up the combination. This feeling was once more sweeping over the general--there is a fascination about some men that is very hard to resist. Possibly he might have again thrust out his hand despite Roblado and his hatred for Yankees in general. Other voices were heard outside--Roblado was endeavoring to explain to the new arrivals who had just appeared upon the scene. Perhaps, not having received any answer to his frenzied calls to the general, he jumped to the conclusion that the boot was on the other leg, and the veteran had received his quietus at the hands of the miserable American "pig." In numbers there is courage and strength. Even Roblado could be valorous when backed up by half a dozen comrades. The cramp in his abdomen, which had necessarily prevented him from rushing in and annihilating the Yankee, now left him as if by magic, and when the group of conspirators crushed through the doorway Roblado led the van. Such valor! no wonder Spain has in ages past swept like a whirlwind over the known world--it was certainly worthy of the Dark Ages. Roderic was taken at a disadvantage, for he had not expected such hostile measures. He thought to again snatch the sword that had already served him so well, but ere this could be done one of the new comers had hurled his weight upon him. Had these two been let alone, Owen would surely have done the other injury in short order, for his trained muscles were aching for active service, and the Spaniard was really no match for him. This style of carrying on the affair did not seem to suit the others, however. What was the use of having an advantage if it were not enforced? Such logic carried the day, and when Roderic found the half dozen hanging upon him from all quarters he ceased struggling, knowing the folly of such a useless endeavor to win out. It was a great victory. His captors surrounded him, every man holding on to some part of his apparel. Their swarthy faces beamed with pleasure, as though this might be taken as a forerunner of the great triumph reserved for their nation when the somnolence of many years had been thrown aside. Roblado was in his element.