"'Were it but to provoke the abagado, I would willingly set you free, Señor Potter; but the laws of this free community say nay.' "'But my sister----' "'Has found no more favour than yourself. Santos! You are a strange fellow, Señor Perez. Who the devil ever expects to find an apostle in the carcase of an abagado?' "'Madre de Dios! my poor Teresa!' said the young man, folding his sister to his breast; while she responded by an agony of grief and terror, such as I had never before witnessed. "On her knees she bent before Julian d'Aviero, imploring him to spare her only brother, and to slay her, if he pleased; but her piteous cries and supplications, rendered yet more plaintive by the beautiful language of Spain, were drowned by the brutal jests, and whoops, and yells of the Portuguese robbers. "When the hubbub subsided, 'Señor Cantarero,' said Don Julian, in his wonted cold and sarcastic manner, 'I have said that your ransoms are refused.' "'And what then, Señor Ladrone?' asked the paisano sternly. "You must die--that is all," replied the captain, quietly knocking the ashes from his fragrant cuba. "'Die!' "'Si, morir, Micer Perez el Cantarero,' said he, with an ironical bow. "''T is hard to die thus, and unrevenged,' said the peasant, looking round as if for a weapon; 'but I am content, so that you release my sister, and swear upon the crucifix that she shall receive no harm.' "At this demand there was another horrid laugh; and the Jew, turning up his eyes, swore something in Hebrew at a request so unreasonable. "'Keep your mind quite at ease, Perez, amigo mio,' said Julian d'Aviero, whose potations were now affecting his brain, and imparting to his manner a strange mixture of ferocity and jocose cruelty--'do not be alarmed; your sister shall not die. Maladetto! dost think we have no taste or discrimination?' "'The Holy Virgin thank you!' said the potter, with an odd mixture of fervour and ferocity; 'my dearest Teresa, will----' "'Fall to the lot of the fortunate rascal to whom the happy dice assigns her,' said the Jew lieutenant of the gang, pushing forward and jostling me, with such insolence that I had some difficulty in keeping my hands from his throat. "'Hark you, Master Potter,' he continued, in his husky Spanish, which I cannot imitate. 'We cast lots for the women we capture, if they be young and handsome. The men we poniard, if they cannot ransom their heads and hides, and then we bury them honourably in the chasm of the Tagus. The bones of some stout fellows are bleaching there, so you will find yourself in good company, I promise you I owe you a grudge for the stroke your 'cajado' dealt on my pate yesterday, and so claim the first blow to-day. Arrojarse, camarados! fall on!'