"Gladly, on certain conditions. You have a tongue, and can speak. After to-morrow it can matter nothing to you or any one whether I knew or not. Will you tell me of my comrades? A bargain is a bargain. My silence for your news."
Fortunately for Roger the Spaniard had no fine feelings on the matter. This news concerning the English was common knowledge to all in the town, and therefore might be safely told to the prisoner. It would be a cheap price at which to buy his silence.
"I agree," he said. "And you promise?"
"I give my word. Your tale is safe."
"Then the English ship was captured. She is but a puny brigantine, and our vessels overhauled her in a light wind. A shot hulled her, and a second brought down a mast. She fell a captive, and the master and crew are prisoners here. 'Tis said that they would have been hanged long since were it not for the disc, though what value, save for its gold, there can be in the thing I cannot say. Still, 'tis whispered that Fernando Cortes keeps life within their bodies for one purpose, and that they will dwell in captivity here till the city of Mexico is taken and the nation is quelled. Then they will die, without doubt; for in coming to Spain's preserves you and your comrades have courted and earned your death. That is the tale. You know now what has happened."
"But are they here, in this town?" demanded Roger.
The captain looked suspiciously at him, and pulled thoughtfully at his beard.
"It can do no harm," he murmured. "The youth is as secure as a bird in a cage, and there is but till to-morrow. They are here," he said aloud.
"Where?" asked Roger, quietly. "Surely it will not matter if I know."
"I will tell you. I admire your courage, and you are a good fellow to keep this matter to yourself. They are within this very building. It is the prison, and on the far side of the wall are the English prisoners."