George replied to this question by asking another. “Am I right,” he demanded, “in supposing you to be the Right Reverend Father Superior of this institution?”
“And if I am, what then?” demanded the other.
“Only that you are the man I happen to want,” replied George. “I am an Englishman,” he continued, “and the captain of a ship which holds this city at her mercy. I and my companions have come all the way from England to avenge the most foul and treacherous attack made by your Viceroy upon a fleet of English ships in this harbour, last year; and, incidentally, to call you, sir, to account for your treatment of certain of the prisoners taken upon that occasion, who were delivered into your hands. I have here—”
“But—but—” interrupted the Father Superior—for such was the individual upon whose privacy George had so unceremoniously intruded—“I do not understand. Why have you been permitted to come here? Where are our soldiers, and what are they doing—?”
“Have I not already explained that the town is at my mercy?” interrupted George in his turn. “What further enlightenment do you need? As to your soldiers, they dare not interfere with me, for my ship’s guns command the town, and my crew have orders to destroy the place if any attempt is made to resist me. Now, I have a list here”—drawing it from his pocket—“containing the names of sixteen men who, I am told, were claimed by this Inquisition; and my business with you is to demand an account of them. Where are they, and what have you done to them?”
“How, in the name of all the saints, can I possibly answer your question, señor, unless you furnish me with the names of the men you refer to?” demanded the priest, with a valiant attempt to brazen the matter out, but there was a quaver in his voice which betrayed that he was beginning to feel anxious, if not actually apprehensive, concerning the outcome of this astounding business.
“There is the list, señor,” answered George, laying the document on the table. “Take it, I pray you, and let me have an instant reply to my demand.”
The Father Superior took the list and ran his eye over it, ponderingly. Then he laid it down again and said:
“Señor Englishman, I cannot possibly answer your question offhand, for I do not tax my memory to recollect exactly how every person who enters the walls of this building has been dealt with. But if you will suffer me to ring for my secretary I have no doubt that, with his assistance, I can furnish you with the information you require.”
“By all means,” assented George; and the Father Superior thereupon turned to the wall and jerked a bell rope. A slight interval followed, and then a very frightened priest entered.