and still less wishing to be taken for the culprit himself. In this dilemma the bustle and commotion were increased by the arrival of a pompous old alcalde, who dwelt opposite, and Senor Rubio, the notary, with six alguazils, who were for arresting Ronald on the instant; but, laying his hand on the hilt of his dirk, he vowed to run through the heart the first who laid a finger upon him; upon which the limbs of the law, recoiling, began to handle the locks of their heavy _trabucos_, and more blood would probably have been shed had not the alcalde interfered. This magistrate, whose person and authority the duke had always treated with contempt, was very glad to have opportunity of affronting him; and assuming as much consequence as he could, he administered an oath to Ronald in the Spanish manner, by swearing him across his sword and dirk, and then desiring him to relate what he knew of this matter,—and word for word his relation was committed to writing by the keen-eyed and sharp-visaged little notary. Englishmen might have doubted the relation; but in Spain the words of an honourable cavalier are not to be questioned, and the account proving satisfactory to the alcalde, in so far as concerned Ronald Stuart, he was permitted to retire; while Senor Rubio, and the six men with blunderbusses, were sent off in pursuit of the condé, whom they discovered on his knees before the very shrine he had made the subject of his jests an hour before. Three days afterwards he was tried by a general court-martial, composed of Spanish officers,—the General de Costa being president. Every man supposed his death to be certain; but he was, strange to say, acquitted. Yet life was no boon to poor Truxillo, who, being continually haunted by the miserable death of his brother, became reckless of existence, and by throwing himself madly in the way of danger, endeavoured to perish in expiation of the crime he had committed in the blindness of his rage and jealousy. This occurrence appeared for the present to be a death-blow to the hopes of Louis Lisle. On the following day the duke quitted Aranjuez with his family, retiring suddenly no one knew whither. He was so much enraged against Olivia, who indeed was not to blame, that he threatened to disgrace her for ever, by incarcerating her in the _Monasterio de los Arrepentidas_[*] of Seville, but the tears and entreaties of Donna Virginia made him change his intention: the sisters were separated, and for ever. Olivia was sent off to Galicia, and confined in a solitary convent among the wild ridges of the Sierra de Mondonedo, where, if living, she probably still resides. [*] A place of confinement for ladies who misbehave. *CHAPTER III.* *THE SKIRMISH OF FUENTE DUENNA. THE LEAGUER OF ALBA DE TORMES.*