I told the landlord what had happened, and on taking off my great coat, I found it to be pierced in two places just below the armpit.

“I am going to bed,” I said to the landlord, “and I leave my great coat and the sword in your charge.  Tomorrow morning I shall ask you to come with me before the magistrate to denounce this act of assassination, for if the man was killed it must be shewn that I only slew him to save my own life.”

“I think your best plan would be to fly Barcelona immediately.”

“Then you think I have not told you the strict truth?”

“I am sure you have; but I know whence the blow comes, and God knows what will befall you!”

“Nothing at all; but if I fly I shall be accounted guilty.  Take care of the sword; they tried to assassinate me, but I think the assassins got the worst of it.”

I went to bed somewhat perturbed, but I had the consoling thought that if I had killed a man I had done so to self-defence; my conscience was quite clear.

At seven o’clock the next morning I heard a knocking at my door.  I opened it, and saw my landlord, accompanied by an officer, who told me to give him all my papers, to dress, and to follow him, adding that he should be compelled to use force in case of resistance.

“I have no intention of resisting,” I replied.  “By whose authority do you ask me for my papers?”

“By the authority of the governor.  They will be returned to you if nothing suspicious is found amongst them.”

“Where are you going to take me?”

“To the citadel.”

I opened my trunk, took out my linen and my clothes, which I gave to my landlord, and I saw the officer’s astonishment at seeing my trunk half filled with papers.

“These are all the papers I have,” I said.  I locked the box and gave the officer the key.

“I advise you, sir,” he said, “to put all necessary articles into a portmanteau.”  He then ordered the landlord to send me a bed, and finally asked me if I had any papers in my pockets.

“Only my passports.”

“That’s exactly what we want,” he rejoined, with a grim smile.

“My passports are sacred; I will never give them to anyone but the governor-general.  Reverence your king; here is his passport, here is that of the Count of Aranda, and here the passport of the Venetian ambassador.  You will have to bind me hand and foot before you get them.”

“Be more moderate, sir.  In giving them to me it is just as if you gave them to the viceroy.  If you resist I will not bind you hand and foot, but I shall take you before the viceroy, and then you will be forced to give them up in public.  Give them to me with a good grace, and you shall have an acknowledgement.”

The worthy landlord told me I should be wiser to give in, so I let myself be persuaded.  The officer gave me a full quittance, which I put in my pocketbook (this he let me keep out of his kindness), and then I followed him.  He had six constables with him, but they kept a good distance away.  Comparing this with the circumstances of my arrest at Madrid, I thought myself well treated.