When I came to, I lay in a dark cabin, and Ludar, scarcely less pallid than I, sat beside me. "Come on deck," said he, "this place is stifling. If the Dons mean to make an end of us, they may as well do it at once." So, bracing himself up to lend me an arm, he made for the deck. A sentinel stood at the gangway, whom Ludar, brushing past, bade, in round English, give us food, and lead us to the captain. The man stared in surprise, and muttered something in Spanish, which, as luck would have it, Ludar, mindful of his smattering of Spanish, learned at Oxford, understood to mean we were to remain below. Whereupon he pulled me forward, and defied the fellow to put us back. We might possibly have been run through then and there, had not a soldier, who had overheard our parley, come up. "Are you English?" said he, in our own tongue. "My comrade is English, I am Irish," said Ludar, "and unless we have food forthwith, we are not even that." "I am an Irishman myself," said the soldier, who, by his trappings, was an officer, "therefore come and have some food." I know I felt then hard put to it, whether, despite my famine, I could eat food in such a place and from such hands. But I persuaded myself, if I was to die so soon, I might as well meet death with a full stomach as an empty. While we ate, the Irishman questioned. Ludar as to his name and the part of Ireland he lived in. He himself was the son of a southern chief--one Desmond; and, after living some years in Spain, was now attached to the enemy's forces. He was close enough as to the movements of the fleet, and so soon as he had seen us fed, he bade us come with him to the Don. The deck was as crowded as Fleet Street, and, as we passed to the poop, very few of these gay Spaniards took the trouble to look after us, or wonder how we came there. Only, when Ludar, as we reached the commander's door, suddenly took his sword and flung it out to sea, did a few of them stare. I followed my comrade's example. The sea had as much right to my weapon as a Spaniard, and I was thankful to see that Ludar, in this respect, was of the same mind with me. In the cabin was a tall, elderly, slightly built man, clad in a fine black steel breastplate, with a crested helmet on the table before him. He stood bending over a chart, which several of his officers were also examining; and as he looked quickly up at our entry, I was surprised at the fairness of his complexion and the grave mildness of his demeanour. Our Irish guide briefly explained who we were and how we came on board. Don Alonzo--for that was his name--eyed us keenly; and addressing Ludar, said in a broken English: "You are Irish. Your name?" "Ludar McSorley McDonnell of Dunluce and the Glynns," said Ludar. The commander said something to one of his officers, who presently laid a map of Ireland on the table, and placed his finger on the spot where Dunluce was situated. "Senor has no sword. Your calling?"