She pushed me out upon the unpaved street, then dragged me through an open doorway, across a narrow court filled with blooming plants, and into a lighted room furnished with rich hangings, and chairs, tables, and cabinets of fine workmanship.
I gazed around me in wonder and confusion of mind.
"How does it please your pretty saintship? 'Tis something better than either Padre Ignacio's hut or Melinza's galley, is it not? Are you content to remain?"
"Madame," I said desperately, "do with me what you will; only see, I pray you, that my betrothed comes to no harm."
"What should harm him?" she demanded. "Is he not the guest of my husband?"
"His guest, madame, or his prisoner?"
She gave me a keen glance. "Whichever rôle he may have the wit—or the folly—to play."
I wrung my hands again. "Madame, madame, do not trifle with me!"
"Child, what should make thee so afraid?"
I hesitated, then exclaimed: "Señor de Melinza bears him no good will—he may strive to prejudice your husband!"