"Yes, it is true, sir knight, unfortunately for me," he replied.
"Unfortunately for you? As I hope to be saved," exclaimed Rodrigo, remembering the adventure which Beatrice had related to him and to Fernan, "that count is the Count of Carrion, and you are the old man whose daughter was stolen!"
"You are quite right, sir knight."
"I vow by Judas Iscariot, that I would willingly give ten years of my life to be able to put ten inches of my sword into the breast of that felon count!" exclaimed Fernan, giving vent to his indignation, which he could not restrain, although he knew it was contrary to his duty to interrupt the conversation of his master.
"And you know nothing of your daughter?" asked Rodrigo of the blind man.
"I do not know, sir knight, what has become of her, but I suppose the count keeps her shut up in his castle, for, if not, she would have endeavoured to find her unfortunate father, whom she loved so much, and loves still if she is alive."
The poor old man, as we see, was far from suspecting how different his daughter had become since the count had deprived her of her robe of innocence.
"And have you found no cavalier to take upon himself the carrying out of the revenge which you desire?" asked Rodrigo.
"I have found," replied the old man, "a soldier, as brave as he is kind-hearted; but up to the present he has not been able to do anything."