Morgan and gnashing his teeth at
him. "I doubt not but you were cruel to my mother. I hate you! I loathe
you! I despise you for all your crimes! And most of all for bringing me
into the world. I swear to you, had I the power, I'd not add another
moment to your life. The world were better rid of you."

"You have been well trained by your Spanish nurses," cried Morgan
resolutely, although with sneering mockery and hate in his voice, "and
well you seem to know the duty owed by son to sire."

"You have done nothing for me," returned the young soldier, "you
abandoned me. Such as you are you were my father. You cast me away to
shift for myself. Had it not been for these friends here----"

"Nay," said Morgan, "I thought you dead. That cursed one-eyed traitor
there told me so, else I'd sought you out."

[Illustration: "God help me!" cried Alvarado, throwing aside the
poniard, "I cannot!"]

"Glad am I that you did not, for I have passed my life where no child of
yours could hope to be--among honorable men, winning their respect,
which I now forfeit because of thee."

"Alvarado," said the Viceroy, "this much will I do for thee. He shall be
shot like a soldier instead of undergoing the punishment we had designed
for him. This much for his fatherhood."

"My lord, I ask it not," answered the young man.

"Sir," exclaimed Morgan, a gleam of relief passing across his features,
for he knew, of course, that death was his only expectation, and he had
greatly feared that his taking off would be accompanied by the most
horrible tortures that could be devised by people who were not the least
expert in the practice of the unmentionable cruelties of the age, "you,
at least, are a father, and I thank you."

"Yes, I am a father and a most unhappy one," groaned de Lara, turning
toward Alvarado. "Perhaps it is well you did not accomplish your purpose
of self-destruction after all, my poor friend. As I said before, Spain
hath need of you. You may go back to the old country beyond the great
sea. All here will keep your secret; my favor will be of service to you
even there. You can make a new career with a new name."

"And Mercedes?" asked Alvarado.

"You have no longer any right to question. Ah, well, it is just that you
should hear. The girl goes to a convent; the only cloak for her is in
our Holy Religion--and so ends the great race of de Laras!"

"No, no," pleaded Mercedes, "send me not there! Let me go with him!" She
stepped neare