“Fifty angels be it then,” said Castell, “and I thank you, Señor, for your good offices. Will you take the money now?”
“By no means; not till I bring the debt discharged. Señor, I will come again and let you know how matters stand. Farewell, fair maiden; may the saints intercede for that dead rogue who brought me into your company, and that of your father and your cousin of the quick eye and the stalwart arm! Till we meet again,” and, still murmuring compliments, he bowed himself out of the room in charge of a manservant.
“Thomas,” said Castell to this servant when he returned, “you are a discreet fellow; put on your cap and cloak, follow that Spaniard, see where he lodges, and find out all you can about him. Go now, swiftly.”
The man bowed and went, and presently Castell, listening, heard a side door shut behind him. Then he turned and said to the other two:
“I do not like this business. I smell trouble in it, and I do not like the Spaniard either.”
“He seems a very gallant gentleman, and high-born,” said Margaret.
“Aye, very gallant—too gallant, and high-born—too high-born, unless I am mistaken. So gallant and so high-born——” And he checked himself, then added, “Daughter, in your wilfulness you have stirred a great rock. Go to your bed and pray God that it may not fall upon your house and crush it and us.”
So Margaret crept away frightened, a little indignant also, for after all, what wrong had she done? And why should her father mistrust this splendid-looking Spanish cavalier?
When she was gone, Peter, who all this while had said little, looked up and asked straight out:
“What are you afraid of, Sir?”