addressed him at once in the clear, decided voice which was his
characteristic.

"What is this I am told, Peter? A man killed by you before the palace
gates? A broil! A public riot in which things went near to great
bloodshed between the English, with you at the head of them, and the
bodyguard of his Excellency, de Ayala. You arrested by the king, and
bailed out by this senor. Is all this true?"

"Quite," answered Peter calmly.

"Then I am ruined; we are all ruined. Oh! it was an evil hour when I
took one of your bloodthirsty trade into my house. What have you
to say?"

"Only that I want my supper," said Peter. "Those who began the story can
finish it, for I think their tongues are nimbler than my own," and he
glanced wrathfully at Margaret, who laughed outright, while even the
solemn d'Aguilar smiled.

"Father," broke in Margaret, "do not be angry with cousin Peter, whose
only fault is that he hits too hard. It is I who am to blame, for I
wished to stop to see the king against his will and Betty's, and
then--then that brute," and her eyes filled with tears of shame and
anger, "caught hold of me, and Peter threw him down, and afterwards,
when he attacked him with a sword, Peter killed him with his staff,
and--all the rest happened."

"It was beautifully done," said d'Aguilar in his soft voice and foreign
accent. "I saw it all, and made sure that you were dead. The parry I