In this dilemma he applied to his rival, the count, requesting him to procure leave for him to visit Saint Palais for a day or two, pledging himself solemnly to return within the given time. The Spaniard, although detesting Louis Lisle in his heart, offered readily to befriend him on this occasion—having two ends in view; first, to remove Lisle from the presence of Virginia; and secondly to do so effectually, by sending him to his long home by means of some of those continental assassins, whose daggers are ever at the service of the highest bidder. Through his interest the duke granted the leave, and long before break of day Louis and the donna were clear of the fortress,—the duke’s written order satisfying the scruples of the sub commanding the barrier-guard. At a village-inn hard by they procured horses, and took the road direct for Cambo, where they hoped to find the _curé_ of the village. The wily count had previously despatched two of his own servants, Valencians,—rogues who would have sold their chance of salvation for a maravedi,—to post themselves in ambush on the road leading to Saint Palais, whither he believed Lisle to have gone, with orders to shoot him dead the moment he appeared. So full of joy was Don Felix at the expected revenge, that he found it impossible to retire to rest, and continued to pace his chamber all night. With the utmost exultation he heard the noise of his intended victim’s departure in the morning, while it was yet dark, and long ere gun-fire. As the challenge of the sentinels and clang of the closing gate echoed through the silent fortress the satisfaction of the Spaniard increased, and he already imagined himself the master of Virginia’s broad lands on the Nive, and her rich estates in Valentia, _la Hermosa_; and long he watched the road to Saint Palais, in hopes of seeing the death-shot gleam through the darkness.