"Where, then, shall I find my betrothed?"
Stephano was about to reply to this question when the tramp of horses was heard. It was the troop returning.
"Softly!" whispered Dulaurier as he crept towards the window. "Yes, these are my friends. Where will you hide me?"
Stephano regarded him with a savage gleam in his eyes and muttered to himself, "This man comes here to blast my happiness, and I must protect his life at the peril of my own."
"What am I to do?" repeated Dulaurier.
"Take this dagger," said Stephano, "put on your mantle and follow me." He unfastened a little door which opened upon a staircase which led into the garden, and descended, followed by Dulaurier. They stole along behind a thick hedge of hawthorn until they came to the trees of a little orchard, from which rose the roof of a ruined summer-house. On reaching this spot Stephano installed the lieutenant so that he could watch both the road and the garden; then having arranged upon the course they should take, Stephano hastened back to the house.
"THEY STOLE ALONG."
Don Pedro was in the lower hall, alone, when his son entered.
"I have a request to make to you," said the young man, clasping his father's hand convulsively. "I want you to let me start at once to join my brothers and to fight for Spain."