ptain, will you be pleased to recollect a certain little
occurrence at Messina, in the year 1575? For if you do not, I do; and
beg to inform this gentleman that you are unworthy of his sword, and
had you, unluckily for you, been an Englishman, would have found the
fashions of our country so different from your own that you would have
been then hanged, sir, and probably may be so still."

The Italian's sword flashed out in a moment: but Lord Grey interfered.

"No fighting here, gentlemen. That may wait; and, what is more, shall
wait till--Strike their swords down, Raleigh, Mackworth! Strike their
swords down! Colonel Sebastian, you will be pleased to return as you
came, in safety, having lost nothing, as (I frankly tell you) you
have gained nothing, by your wild bearing here. We shall proceed to
deliberate on your fate."

"I trust, my lord," said Amyas, "that you will spare this braggart's
life, at least for a day or two. For in spite of Captain Zouch's
warning, I must have to do with him yet, or my cheek will rise up in
judgment against me at the last day."

"Well spoken, lad," said the colonel, as he swung out. "So! worth a
reprieve, by this sword, to have one more rapier-rattle before the
gallows! Then I take back no further answer, my lord deputy? Not even
our swords, our virgin blades, signor, the soldier's cherished bride?
Shall we go forth weeping widowers, and leave to strange embrace the
lovely steel?"

"None, sir, by heaven!" said he, waxing wroth. "Do you come hither,
pirates as you are, to dictate terms upon a foreign soil? Is it not
enough to have set up here the Spanish flag, and claimed the land
of Ireland as the Pope's gift to the Spaniard; violated the laws of
nations, and the solemn treaties of princes, under color of a mad
superstition?"

"Superstition, my lord? Nothing less. Believe a philosopher who has not
said a pater or an ave for seven years past at least. Quod tango
credo, is my motto; and though I am bound to say, under pain of the
Inquisition, that the most holy Father the Pope has given this land of
Ireland to his most Catholic Majesty the King of Spain, Queen Elizabeth
having forfeited her title to it by heresy,--why, my lord, I believe it
as little as you do. I believe that Ireland would have been mine, if I
had won it; I believe religiously that it is not mine, now I have lost
it. What is, is, and a fig for priests; to-day to thee, to-morrow to me.
Addio!" And out he swung.

"Ther