and take him if you want him," and once more the tumult grew, while
Peter and his companions made ready to fight.

Fighting there would have been also, notwithstanding all that d'Aguilar
could do to prevent it; but of a sudden the noise began to die away, and
a hush fell upon the place. Then between the uplifted weapons walked a
short, richly clad man, who turned suddenly and faced the mob. It was
King Henry himself.

"Who dare to draw swords in my streets, before my very palace doors?" he
asked in a cold voice.

A dozen hands pointed at Peter.

"Speak," said the king to him.

"Margaret, come here," cried Peter; and the girl was thrust forward to
him.

"Sire," he said, "that man," and he pointed to the corpse of Andrew,
"tried to do wrong to this maiden, John Castell's child. I, her cousin,
threw him down. He drew his sword and came at me, and I killed him with
my staff. See, it lies there. Then the Spaniards--his comrades--would
have cut me down, and I called for English help. Sire, that is all."

The king looked him up and down.

"A merchant by your dress," he said; "but a soldier by your mien. How
are you named?"