have kept it like a Christian.  But on a sudden there was a great cry in the wood, and coming through the trees on all sides Spanish arquebusiers, a hundred strong at least, and negroes with them, who bade us stand or they would shoot.  William Penberthy leapt up, crying ‘Treason!’ and running upon the nearest negro ran him through, and then another, and then falling on the Spaniards, fought manfully till he was borne down with pikes, and so died.  But I, seeing no thing better to do, sate still and finished my plaiting.  And so we were all taken, and I and Mr. Oxenham bound with cords; but the soldiers made a litter for the lady and child, by commandment of Senor Diego de Trees, their commander, a very courteous gentleman.

“Well, sirs, we were brought down to the place where the house of boughs had been by the river-side; there we went over in boats, and found waiting for us certain Spanish gentlemen, and among others one old and ill-favored man, gray-bearded and bent, in a suit of black velvet, who seemed to be a great man among them.  And if you will believe me, Mr. Leigh, that was none other than the old man with the gold falcon at his breast, Don Francisco Xararte by name, whom you found aboard of the Lima ship.  And had you known as much of him as I do, or as Mr. Oxenham did either, you had cut him up for shark’s bait, or ever you let the cur ashore again.

“Well, sirs, as soon as the lady came to shore, that old man ran upon her sword in hand, and would have slain her, but some there held him back.  On which he turned to, and reviled with every foul and spiteful word which he could think of, so that some there bade him be silent for shame; and Mr. Oxenham said, ’It is worthy of you, Don Francisco, thus to trumpet abroad your own disgrace.  Did I not tell you years ago that you were a cur; and are you not proving my words for me?’

“He answered, ‘English dog, would to Heaven I had never seen you!’

“And Mr. Oxenham, ’Spanish ape, would to Heaven that I had sent my dagger through your herring-ribs when you passed me behind St. Ildegonde’s church, eight years last Easter-eve.’  At which the old man turned pale, and then began again to upbraid the lady, vowing that he would have her burnt alive, and other devilish words, to which she answered at last—­

“’Would that you had burnt me alive on my wedding morning, and spared me eight years of misery!’ And he—­

“’Misery?  Hear the witch, senors!  Oh, have I not pampered her, heaped with jewels, clothes, coaches, what not?  The saints alone know what ’I have spent on her.  What more would she have of me?’

“To which she answered only but this one word, ‘Fool!’ but in so terrible a voice, though low, that they who were about to laugh at the old pantaloon, were more minded to weep for her.