"Tell me now," said Juan, "how thou comest to be my jailer; and why it is that Villafana seems to have given up his trust to thee?" At this question, Najara's good-humour immediately vanished, and he replied, sourly, "Oh, content you, you shall be in good keeping." "I doubt it not," said Juan, calmly. "But Villafana is, or methinks he is, more friendly to me than you. I did but desire to know what changes had taken place in the government of the city, from the watchman up to the commandant, since my imprisonment." "Ay, indeed!" replied Najara, grimly: "such changes, that hadst thou fifty friends waiting to aid thee, thou shouldst be caught, before getting twenty steps from the door. Know then, that I am made Alguazil, as well as Villafana; and what is more, I am captain of the prison. The Alcalde is Antonio de Quinones, master of the armory; and the Corregidor of the city is thy good friend Guzman,--an honour thou gavest him, by hacking his face so freely, and so leaving him in the hospital." "You speak to me in sarcasm," said Juan, mildly: "I have not deserved it. And methinks you should be more generous of temper, than to oppress with words of insult, a fallen and helpless man.--Well, heed it not--I forgive you. I have but one more question to ask you.--The lady,--this lady, La Monjonaza--" "Ay!" cried Najara, with singular bitterness, "I have heard of that too. You were seen talking with her in the garden. You will play chamberer with Cortes! ay, and rival too! Pho, canst thou not be at peace? Meddle with the general's fancy. Why that were enough to hang thee. I had some soft thoughts of thee; but everything shows thou art unworthy. Farewell; think of these things no more; but repent and make your peace with heaven." So saying, the hunchback flung out of the room, and securing the thick door of plank, Juan was again left to his meditations. CHAPTER XV. Then followed another period of silence and dejection, in which the prisoner wasted away as much in body as in spirit, becoming so listlessly indifferent to everything, that he no longer betrayed any desire to draw Najara into conversation, nor even to meet the advances which his jailer now often made. The thought of escaping from confinement, perhaps, never entered his mind; for, had he been even less resigned to his fate, the strict watch kept over him, and the condition of his prison, added to his apparent friendlessness, must have been enough to banish all such thoughts. His chamber was neither dark nor damp, but made strong by its bulky door, barred on the outside, and by windows, high above the floor, so very narrow that no human being could hope to pass through them.