"Why need we talk of this?" said Juan, hesitating. "Guatimozin the king, may be different from Guatimozin the prince." "He is not _yet_ the king," said Villafana. "He will not be crowned till the day of the great war-festival, and not then, unless he can furnish a Spaniard for the sacrifice. I'faith, he loves not the blood of his red neighbours." "Villafana," said Juan, struck with certain uneasy suspicions, "thou seemest better acquainted with these things than becomes a true follower of Don Hernan." "Not a whit, not a whit," cried the Alguazil, hastily: "this is but the common talk,--the common talk, senor; and I am but a fool to indulge in it, to the prejudice of other business more urgent. Come, senor,--will you walk in the garden? There is a friend to speak with you." "What friend?" said Juan.--"Villafana, I half suspect you are engaged in some foul work. I will have naught to do with it." "Lo you now," said the Alguazil, impatiently; "this is wild work. Do you think I will assassinate you? Ho! this is a thing thy best friend would entrust to another. Come, senor;--you have your rapier,--you can take your casque, too, if you have any fear. It is a friend, who has that to say which it concerns your life to know. You know not your danger. God be with you, and your blood be upon your own head! If you refuse, you will not repent you:--no, faith--you will not have time left for lamentation.--Farewell, senor,--" "Stay, Villafana," exclaimed Juan, much disturbed: "Friend or foe,--it is not that which stays me, but the fear of being entrapped into something more to be dreaded than death. Thou art a schemer; it is thy nature: I will have nothing to do with thy plots, or with those who--" "Pho! this concerns thyself alone, not me. My only plot is to help one who desires to drag thee out of the fire thou art so bent to burn in. I take you to your friend, and depart: I have other things to occupy me. I am but a messenger. Will you go? I must give you a token then.--You have not forgotten Hilario?" At these words, muttered under breath, Juan started and turned pale, exclaiming, "Saints and angels! and heaven forbid! Mine ears did not then deceive me? Oh wo to us all! Alas for thine ill news! Have I not pain enough of mine own?" As he spoke, with a trembling voice, Villafana handed him his cap and sword, saying, as he put into his hand the latter, which was a light rapier, "A good blade! and has hung at Don Hernan's girdle.--Leave the dog behind: he will but set up his cursed growling, and so bring upon you some one who may not relish the meeting." "It is true, then?" cried Juan, with tones and aspect of the greatest distress: "So fair, so young, so noble, so fallen!" "Back, cur! thick-lips! Befo!" cried the Alguazil, as the two left the chamber.--"He grumbles at me, as if to say _Ehem_, with disdain. Command him thyself: he is a superfluous companion."