"Then the English ship was captured. She is but a puny brigantine, and our vessels overhauled her in a light wind. A shot hulled her, and a second brought down a mast. She fell a captive, and the master and crew are prisoners here. 'Tis said that they would have been hanged long since were it not for the disc, though what value, save for its gold, there can be in the thing I cannot say. Still, 'tis whispered that Fernando Cortes keeps life within their bodies for one purpose, and that they will dwell in captivity here till the city of Mexico is taken and the nation is quelled. Then they will die, without doubt; for in coming to Spain's preserves you and your comrades have courted and earned your death. That is the tale. You know now what has happened." "But are they here, in this town?" demanded Roger. The captain looked suspiciously at him, and pulled thoughtfully at his beard. "It can do no harm," he murmured. "The youth is as secure as a bird in a cage, and there is but till to-morrow. They are here," he said aloud. "Where?" asked Roger, quietly. "Surely it will not matter if I know." "I will tell you. I admire your courage, and you are a good fellow to keep this matter to yourself. They are within this very building. It is the prison, and on the far side of the wall are the English prisoners." The Spaniard nodded carelessly to the wall on his right, and turned to go. "You have heard," he said, "and I can trust you. Then I will leave. To-morrow----" "At six of the clock we shall meet again," answered Roger, coolly. He stood looking after the Spaniard till the latter had gone, and then slowly crossed the wide courtyard till he reached the shade beyond, where he threw himself down at full length. For the first time he had an opportunity of reflecting upon his position, and its seriousness impressed him now with all its intensity. He was a captive, with enemies all about him, and death promised at sunrise on the following morning. But he could escape that fate if he spoke and told this Fernando Cortes what had happened in Mexico. It would be so easy to speak about the lances, the men who had been trained to use them, and the hundreds who hoped to wield a similar weapon when the siege became an accomplished fact. Then there were the soldiers with the crossbow. These men could, with their own bows and arrows, hit an ear of corn when tossed into the air, and strip it of every grain ere it reached the ground, provided there were a sufficient number of them. With the new bow they had soon made excellent practice, as the captain of horse had discovered. Roger remembered that the dent had caught his eye not a minute before, and had caused him to feel a sense of pride and pleasure. How easy to whisper a word of these men, to speak of the defences outside, of the hidden canoes, and of the men with poles and hooks. And he had known the Mexicans for so short a time, and--and his life was at stake.