“Ay, and unhurt, Senhor,” he said. “’Twill please thee less, mayhap (since the enemy were thy countrymen), to be told that we have conquered.”
“Now, by Madonna, I am right glad on’t!” answered Don Rafaele, with sparkling eyes. “I would the foe had been any other than Spaniards, but, since it was not so ordered, I am heartily pleased that thou hast beaten them off.”
“I have even captured them,” observed Hildebrand.
“Alack!” sighed Don Rafaele.
“Nay, be of good heart, fair Senhor!” returned Hildebrand. “Because thy country war with mine, it follows not, in my conceit, that we two be adversaries. I’faith, no! Ere thou shouldst suffer wrong, I would perish in defending thee!”
Don Rafaele pressed his hand.
“Be of good cheer, then!” pursued Hildebrand. “I will straight minister thee a potion”—here he smiled again—“will give thee a new heart.”
“An’ ’twill do that,” smiled Don Rafaele, “prithee let us have it with all convenience; for, by my sooth, my heart is now so marvellously low, I have a mind to think I have even lost it. In such case, a new one will be right welcome.”
“Have at thee, then,” said Hildebrand. And, raising his voice, he added—“Without, there!”
His summons was answered by the silent steward, whose connexion with the cabin, in all matters of eating and drinking, has already been noticed. On his appearance, Hildebrand directed him, in English, to bring in some goblets, sugar, and hot water, which, though he made no answer, he did promptly. When these were supplied, he turned to the adjacent locker, and extracted therefrom a small boutique, or leather flask, filled with spirit. Mingling its contents with some hot water and sugar, he shortly compounded a sufficient quantity of the potion he had so eulogised, in recommending it to Don Rafaele, to fill two goblets. On thus completing its preparation, he handed one of the goblets to Don Rafaele.