hand? Depend upon it, you are here to gratify the avarice or revenge of
the Scourge of Spain."

"Impossible!" cried Fonseca. "Don Roderigo is my friend--my intercessor.
He overwhelms me with his kindness."

"Then you are indeed lost," said the governor, in accents of compassion;
"the tiger always caresses his prey before he devours it. What have you
done to provoke his kindness?"

"Senor," said Fonseca, suspiciously, "you speak with a strange want of
caution to a stranger, and against a man whose power you confess."

"Because I am safe from his revenge; because the Inquisition have already
fixed their fatal eyes upon him; because by that Inquisition I am not
unknown nor unprotected; because I see with joy and triumph the hour
approaching that must render up to justice the pander of the prince, the
betrayer of the king, the robber of the people; because I have an
interest in thee, Don Martin, of which thou wilt be aware when thou hast
learned my name. I am Juan de la Nuza, the father of the young officer
whose life you saved in the assault of the Moriscos, in Valentia, and I
owe you an everlasting gratitude."

There was something in the frank and hearty tone of the governor which at
once won Fonseca's confidence. He became agitated and distracted with
suspicions of his former tutor and present patron.

"What, I ask, hast thou done to attract his notice? Calderon is not
capricious in cruelty. Art thou rich, and does he hope that thou wilt
purchase freedom with five thousand pistoles? No! Hast thou crossed the