The Notary having come to this judicious resolution, kept a vigilant watch on the heap of branches, in the hopes that some one would pass that way to afford him assistance in capturing the prey; nor had he long to wait before chance led a farmer and his servant to cross the wood at no great distance from where he sat. On his beckoning to them, they immediately came up to him; when, in a few words, he explained that he was on the watch for an atrocious criminal, and promised them a reward if they would assist in capturing him. They immediately assented, when they all three set forward towards the spot where the wretched Duke was concealed.
“Seize the traitor, alive or dead!” exclaimed Senhor de Leiro, in a loud voice, as he pointed to the underwood.
On hearing these words, Manoel, finding further concealment was hopeless, sprang up, determined to make one struggle for life, the Duke following his example, with the intention of flying. The appearance of two desperate men somewhat staggered the valour of the Notary, particularly when Manoel, rushing towards him, seized the sword from his side, and would have run him through with his own weapon, when a cry from the Duke drew off his attention for the moment. On turning round, he beheld his master dragged away by the farmer and his servant.
“Release him, villains!” he cried; “he is the Duke of Aveiro!”
“We know that well enough,” answered the farmer. “He shot at our gracious King!”
Manoel was about to avenge his master, or endeavour to release him, when the shouts of the soldiers, returning through the wood, struck his ear. He now saw that all further attempts to save the Duke would be hopeless; so, abandoning him to his fate, he rushed past the Notary, who tried to impede him, and sought his own safety in flight. He was still in sight when the soldiers appeared on the top of the bank, and the Notary, pointing in the direction of the fugitive, some set off in pursuit, while others hastened forward to secure the greater prize.
The unfortunate Duke was dragged back to his mansion, and, without being allowed even to alter his dress, or to see his Duchess, he was hurried into a carriage, waiting ready in the court-yard to receive him. Just as he was driven off, he saw his young son brought in, vainly struggling in the grasp of the rude soldiers who held him.
No sooner had the Duke disappeared, than the Duchess was led down stairs, and desired to enter her own carriage, which was now brought round to the door. Almost fainting with grief and terror—for she had beheld her husband a prisoner, and her fears pictured his too probable fate—she requested that her son might accompany her; but this was peremptorily refused. She then entreated that she might be allowed to see him.
“Such cannot be, madam,” answered the Desembargador. “My orders are explicit to allow no communication between the prisoners. Your destination is the Convent of the Grillos; the young Marquis must accompany me.” Without waiting to hear the answer of the unhappy lady, he ordered the driver to proceed.
A third carriage was in attendance to convey the young Marquis to the prison intended for him. He was now brought out of the house in the custody of some soldiers. The news of his parent’s apprehension had come on him like a thunderbolt; but he neither shed a tear, nor uttered a complaint. On being informed that he must quit his home, he insisted on being allowed to prepare for his journey: this was refused him. He then desired to return to his room, to procure some money and necessaries.