"Have you nothing to say, Benet?"
On this, feeling ashamed to acknowledge the truth, I sought to excuse myself with a lie.
"I am thinking," says I, "of our peril, which is none of the least."
"Why," says she, "what have we to fear now? That man will never surely pursue us hither."
"No," says I; "very likely not; but I have heard no sounds of firing, and I do fear the governor, despite my warning, has yielded to some cunning artifice of Rodrigues; who by threat or torture may persuade him to fetch us back with his soldiery."
She translated my fears to Lewis de Pino, who replied that Dom Sebastian would perish in flames rather than be guilty of treachery.
"And I think so likewise," added Lady Biddy, when she had rendered this, "for these Portugals have nobility stamped in their features."
"Ay," says I, "and cruelty stamped on their lips, and wickedness in their eyes as well."
"As for that," says she, laughing, "we are not all Puritans. You must admit," added she, with a malicious twinkle in her eye, for I fancy she perceived the secret of my dislike and would pique me for a punishment—"you must admit Senhor Lewis is a very handsome man."
"Yes," says I; "but I like him none the better for that."