"No, faith! I have been locked up like a jailbird in Pampeluna, and other infernal places, ever since that unlucky affair at Fuente Duenna; and yet, after all, I do not regret it."
"Indeed!"
"Why, you have yet to learn. But where is Virginia,—Virginia de Alba?"
"How on earth should I know, Louis? 'Tis an odd question; but her father's blood, the fierce old villain! is yet red on Evan's bayonet."
"What is this you tell me?" said Lisle frowning. "Was the duke slain?"
"He fell in the assault," replied Macpherson, "and thus escaped the axe, the garrote, or a volley through the back,—all of which he so well merited."
"Stay, Macpherson!" interrupted Lisle, so angrily that the other was indignant. "I will not hear him spoken of thus. He has gone to his last account,—so rail against him no more. Truly, he deserves little pity from me, for I have suffered much at his hands; but that you will all know another time. Virginia! Virginia! for Heaven's sake tell me something about her!"
"I never heard aught of the lady since we were last at Aranjuez; but I hope the ci-devant abbess is well, notwithstanding the demerits of her fierce and treacherous father. Your hand again, Louis! My dear fellow, I congratulate you on your freedom. All are well at Inchavon, and—but mean time duty must be attended to." And, ignorant of the cause of Lisle's deep anxiety, he turned away, crying, "Holloa, Macrone! Where is that confounded old humbug loitering? In the spirit-store, likely. Ah! get the company under arms, and let the piper blow the gathering."
"I trust in Heaven that the tower yet contains her!" exclaimed Lisle. "I will find her, or be guilty of some desperate thing. Follow me, Evan, and some of you, my true old comrades! The keep is full of Spaniards and Germans, who are wont to be unscrupulous enough, when heated by the fury of an assault. Forward, Highlanders! We will ransack the prison-house, and a score of dollars shall be his who finds the lady!"
He snatched up the sword from the dead hand of Castronuno, and, followed by a few soldiers, rushed up the stairs of the keep, and sought at once the boudoir or apartment of Virginia, whom he found in the act of surrendering her bracelets and rings to a cazadore, who had terrified her to extremity by his oaths and menaces. The Spaniard was a powerful Asturian, but Louis grasped him by his black cross-belts, and hurled him down stairs like an infant, for rage supplied him with unusual strength, Virginia clasped him in her arms, and hung weeping and sobbing bitterly; while Ronald Stuart and his lieutenant—Evan Macpherson, who had followed Louis up stairs, stood for a few moments at the door, unwilling to intrude upon them.