Henry knew that the insulting words were intended for his ear, but he gave no sign of hearing them. He stood expressionless, awaiting the word to the soldiers to march. Braxton Wyatt quickly gave it. He was angrier than ever, because he could not stir Henry Ware, whom he hated most of all, to open anger.
The march led straight to the Chateau of Beaulieu, across well-trimmed sward, and Henry's alert eye took in everything, the pretentious house, so unlike anything erected by his own people in Kentucky, the low outbuildings, and the occasional gleam of a uniform.
But Henry did not observe at this moment with any eye to the escape of himself and his comrades. His condition of mind was spiritual and he felt a satisfaction for which he could not have accounted if he had tried. He felt sure that his friends and he would escape. He did not doubt it even now, when only one of the five was free in the woods out there. The spring sun was setting in great clouds of red and gold fire, a pleasant coolness was coming over the heated landscape, and every building, fence, and tree was touched by a soft but vivid light.
Braxton led the way into the house and into a great room, where Francisco Alvarez sat in a high chair, keeping state like a feudal lord. He waved his hand and the soldiers withdrew. Then he said to Braxton Wyatt:
"I wish to speak alone, absolutely alone, to Señor Ware, and I must ask you to leave us for a little while."
Braxton turned on his heel, his anger but half concealed, and the Spaniard smiled to himself, Francisco Alvarez was a wily man, a reader of the minds of others, and he did not object to the present displeasure of Wyatt.
But he said nothing until the renegade was gone. Henry, meanwhile, had quietly taken his seat in a cane chair. He was not of any mind to stand in the presence of this man who bore himself as if he were master of everything by right divine.
Francisco Alvarez observed the act and understood its meaning. He smiled again to himself. He had not misjudged the youth, and it confirmed him in the plan that had come suddenly into his cunning mind.
"Señor Ware," he said, veiling his voice and speaking with a velvety courtesy that was unusual in him, "I have brought you here to tell you first that I repent my act to-day, by which I placed your comrade's life in seeming danger. I was hasty, but I had been goaded greatly, and it may be, too, that I was influenced by the sinister advice of one who hates you and your friends in a manner almost beyond belief. Besides, the swordsman had orders not to slay."
Henry Ware looked at him in great surprise. Five minutes ago he would not have dreamed it possible that he could hear such a speech in such a tone from Francisco Alvarez. He waited to see what it meant. Alvarez regarded him in a sort of kindly contemplation, as a man would look upon a youth for whom he had benevolent plans.