"He is hanged and dead, senor. I would have hanged, could I have caught
them, every living thing which was present at my brother's death, even
to the very flies upon the wall. No more words, senor; your conscience
tells you that I am just."

"Senor," said the commandant--"one word--I trust there are no
listeners--none of my crew, I mean; but I must exculpate myself in your
eyes."

"Walk out, then, into the gallery with me."

"To tell you the truth, senor--I trust in Heaven no one overhears.--You
are just. This Inquisition is the curse of us, the weight which is
crushing out the very life of Spain. No man dares speak. No man dares
trust his neighbor, no, not his child, or the wife of his bosom. It
avails nothing to be a good Catholic, as I trust I am," and he crossed
himself, "when any villain whom you may offend, any unnatural son or
wife who wishes to be rid of you, has but to hint heresy against you,
and you vanish into the Holy Office--and then God have mercy on you,
for man has none. Noble ladies of my family, sir, have vanished
thither, carried off by night, we know not why; we dare not ask why. To
expostulate, even to inquire, would have been to share their fate. There
is one now, senor--Heaven alone knows whether she is alive or dead!--It
was nine years since, and we have never heard; and we shall never hear."

And the commandant's face worked frightfully.

"She was my sister, senor!"

"Heavens! sir, and have you not avenged her?"

"On churchmen, senor, and I a Catholic? To be burned at the stake in
this life, and after that to all eternity beside? Even a Spaniard
dare not face that. Beside, sir, the mob like this Inquisition, and an
Auto-da-fe is even better sport to them than a bull-fight. They would be
the first to tear a man in pieces who dare touch an Inquisitor. Sir,
may all the saints in heaven obtain me forgiveness for my blasphemy, but
when I saw you just now fearing those churchmen no more than you feared
me, I longed, sinner that I am, to be a heretic like you."

"It will not take long to make a brave and wise gentleman who has
suffered such things as you have, a heretic, as you call it--a free
Christian man, as we call it."

"Tempt me not, sir!" said the poor man, crossing himself fervently. "Let
us say no more. Obedience is my duty; and for the rest the Church must
decide, according to her infallible authority--for I am a good Catholic,
senor, the best of Catholics, though a great sinne