“Go on,” said the General to the secretary. “On being confronted with the Señhor Ruy Peres, the prisoner became suddenly abashed, and at once confessed that he had known him intimately several years before in London.”
“Is that man a witness against me?” asked I, eagerly.
“Attend to me, sir,” said the General, while he made a sign to the Chevalier to retire. “Neither subterfuge nor insolence will avail you here. You are perfectly well known to us,—your early history, your late intrigues, your present intentions.”
“With such intimate knowledge of all about me, General,” said I, coolly, “have n't we been wasting a great deal of valuable time in this interrogatory?”
“And, notwithstanding repeated admonitions, persisted in using the most indecorous language to the commission.” These words the General dictated in a loud voice, and they were immediately taken down by his secretary.
“Señhor Concregan,” said he, addressing me, “you stand now committed, by virtue of a royal warrant, a copy of which, and of the charges laid against you, will be duly transmitted to you. Whenever the authorities have decided whether your offence should be submitted to a civil or military tribunal, you will be brought up for trial.”
“I am an English subject, sir,” said I; “I belong to a nation that never permits its meanest member to be trampled on by foreign tyranny, far less will it suffer his liberty or life to be sacrificed to a false and infamous calumny. I claim the protection of my ambassador, or at least of such a representative of my country as your petty locality may possess. I desire—” What I was about to demand as my birthright was not destined to be made public on this occasion, since at a signal from the General the door opened, and two soldiers, advancing, adjusted handcuffs on my wrists, and led me away even before I had recovered from the surprise the whole proceeding occasioned me.
Whether it was that I enjoyed the prerogative of a State prisoner, or that the authorities were not quite clear that they were justified in what they were doing, I cannot say; but my prison discipline was of the very mildest order. I had a most comfortable room, with a window looking seaward over the beautiful bay of Malaga, taking a wide range along shore, where gardens and villas and orange-groves extended for miles. The furniture was neat, and with some pretensions to luxury; and the fare, I am bound to own, was excellent. Books, and even newspapers, were freely supplied to me, and, save that at certain intervals the clank of a musket, and the shuffling of feet in the corridor without, told that the sentry of my guard was being relieved, I could have fancied myself in some homely inn, without a restriction upon my liberty. My handcuffs had been removed the moment I had entered my chamber, and now the iron stanchions of my window were the only reminders of a jail around me.
