“You are right, my friend; and we purpose, God willing, leaving this city for Toro to-morrow morning by daybreak,” answered Herezuelo. “We shall not be out of danger even there; but I have duties to perform at that place, and I shall at all events be at my post.”
“I wish you had arranged to start to-night,” said Don Domingo. “The delay of a few hours is dangerous. If, indeed, you can discover an excuse for leaving the country altogether, let me entreat you to do so. The storm I see coming may blow over; but you are a man of note, and as the tallest trees are the most quickly blown down, you would be the first assailed.”
“I have no fancy for fleeing from danger, and feel disposed rather to face my enemies, and argue the case with them,” observed the advocate.
“The only arguments they trust to are the rack and the stake,” answered Don Domingo. “Against them your eloquence will avail you nothing. Trust not to any one of the Romish priesthood, nor to those under their influence; they are sworn foes of true religion and liberty, and the more enlightened they believe you to be the more eager they will be for your destruction.”
These and other arguments used by Don Domingo at length induced Herezuelo to agree to set forth on his journey immediately that he could procure a conveyance for his wife and her attendant. Don Domingo himself offered, indeed, to remain and assist them; but of this the advocate would not hear, and the friends departed, the former taking the road for Calahora, where he hoped to meet with De Seso.
Don Domingo, who was dressed as a Spanish cavalier of rank, attended by a servant, pushed on at a rapid rate. He was no coward, but he knew full well what the Inquisition had in store for him should he be taken, and he wished to escape their treatment. He avoided as much as possible all inns and places resorted to by the public, and kept, when he could, out of the high road. He hoped thus to reach De Seso, and to persuade him to bear him company in his flight.
Calahora was reached without interruption. The noble De Seso was very unwilling to believe the reports which Don Domingo brought him.
“You go, my friend; but I cannot carry my wife and young children, and will not desert them,” he answered.
No arguments would move him. He did not even think that the inquisitors would venture to interfere with persons in his position.
Reluctantly Don Domingo left his friends to proceed on his journey. Hoping to avoid observation, he turned out of the high road, with the intention of continuing his journey during the moonlit hours of the night. He had not gone far when he saw approaching him a man riding a tall mule, and leading a string of five or six pack mules.