But I bethought me, if there was in truth any good in that heart, I would dare appeal to it; for I mistrusted that at any time Doña Orosia would break her promised word.
"Truly, Don Pedro, I would go gladly, for I hate the very sight of these walls; but—if you love me—I would crave of your graciousness another boon. Set free the English gentleman who was my promised husband, and send him, with the other prisoners, back to his friends."
There was no answer, and I feared I had overstepped the mark; but I dared further.
"Señor de Melinza," I said, "it is true that I come of a race for which you have no love, and that I hold a creed which you condemn; nevertheless it must be remembered that we have our own code of chivalry, and there have lived and died in England as brave knights and true as even your valiant Cid. I would not have the man I am to wed guilty of an unknightly act. Therefore be generous. You have been mutually wounded; but it was in fair duello,"—this I said feigning ignorance of the coward blow that so nearly reached my dear love's heart,—"and now, Don Pedro, it would be the more honourable to set free the countryman of your promised bride and send him in safety to his friends."
"Señorita," said the Spaniard,—and there was a cloud upon his brow,—"I would you had asked me any boon but this. Nevertheless I give you my knightly word that the man shall go, and go unharmed."
"I thank you, Don Pedro," I said, and fought down the cry of joy that struggled to my lips. Then, because I could find no other words, and feared to fail in the part I had to play, I took Dame Barbara's scissors and cut off a long lock of my yellow hair, bound it with riband, and threw it down to him as guerdon for the favour he had granted me.
This noon, when I joined the Governor's wife as usual under the vine-hung balcony, I boasted cheerfully of the promise I had wrung from Melinza; and she demanded at once to hear all that had passed between us,—then called me a fool for my pains!
"Little marplot! Had you shown less concern for the fate of your Englishman, it would have been vastly better. You do but cast obstacles in my way. There is nothing for me to do now but hotly to oppose his leaving! If needs must I will pretend a liking for the man myself, and vow to hold him as my guest yet a while longer, for the sake of his pretty wit and his gallant bearing,—any device to throw dust in their eyes, so that we seem not to be of the same minds and putting up the selfsame plea. Oh! little saint with the blue eyes, your métier is not diplomacy!"
"In sooth, señora, till you first taught me to dissemble I was unlessoned in the art."
She laughed then, and said that when I had less faith in others I could more easily deceive.