"In what, Señor Don Lope?" demanded the valet, with much simplicity.
"Attempt not to impose on me, thou base-born and ungracious varlet. Why does that Moor follow us in this manner?"
"My dear master," replied Roque, "is it in my power to stop the man? What dominion have I over him? These places are public, and I suppose that he, though a Moor, considers that he has the same right to walk here as we faithful Christians. Now, good Señor, could you prevail upon the queen to limit the privileges of those infidels, and allot them a piece of ground for their own use, aloof from all public places, certainly much abomination and contamination would be spared; and thus——"
"Cease, thou graceless dog!" interrupted Don Lope. "Cease, for I can no longer endure thy interminable prosing; a more talkative varlet never intruded on the patience of an indulgent master. See! there is the mysterious Moor again; and if I mistake not, it is the very same who has followed me already twice before. Yes, surely he is the same, although he has somewhat altered his attire."
"What!" cried Roque thrown off his guard; "has he followed you too, Señor?"
"Ah!" returned Don Lope, "then you have seen him before. Now, rascal," he added, grasping roughly the poor valet by the collar—"Leave off this foolish dissembling, or by Santiago, I'll strangle thee on the spot!"
"Sweet master, you surely don't mean to harm your faithful Roque?"
"Art thou, then, prepared to confess thy knowledge of the Moor?" demanded Gomez Arias.
"Like a good Christian, I am always prepared to confess."
"Well, then, begin, thou sinner."