and fire a musket apiece!
If I mistake not, the fighting will be at very short range!"

It was upon this occasion that Senor Fernando Munoz showed his first
spark of interest.

"I will go and awake them," he said; "I know where the servants are wont
to sleep."

But on this occasion his fond wife would not permit him to stir.

"The wicked murderers may have already penetrated to that part of the
castle," she palpitated, her arms still about his neck, "and you must
not risk your precious life. Let Susana go and fetch them. She is old,
and has doubtless made her peace with religion."

"Nay, it is not fitting," objected Susana with spirit. "I am a woman,
and not so old as my lady says. I cannot go gadding about into the
chambers of all and sundry. Besides, there has been purpose of marriage
openly declared between me and the Senor Eugenio for upwards of thirty
years. What then would be said if I----"

"Nay, then," cried Maria Cristina, "stay where you are, Susana. For me,
I am none so nice. I will go myself. Do not follow me, Fernando!" And
with that she ran to the door, and her feet were heard flitting up the
stairway which led to the servants' wing of the palace. Munoz made as if
to accompany her, but remembering his wife's prohibition, he did not
proceed farther than the door, where, with a curious smile upon his
face, he stood listening to the voice of the Queen-Regent upraised in
alternate appeal and rebuke.

During the interval, while the Sergeant and El Sarria were looking to
their stores and munitions, Rollo approached the waiting-maid, Susana,
and inquired of her the way to the armoury, where he expected to find
store of arms and powder.

"If this young maid will go also, I will conduct you thither, young
man!" said Susana, primly.

And holding Concha firmly by the hand, she took up a candle and led the
way.

But to Rollo's surprise they found the armoury wholly sacked. All the
valuable guns had been removed by the deserting guards. The gun racks
were torn down. The floor of beaten earth was strewed with flints of
ancient pieces of last century's manufacture. The barrels of
bell-mouthed blunderbusses leaned against the wall, the stocks, knocked
off in mere wantonness, were piled in corners; and in all the chests and
wall-presses there was not an ounce of powder to be found.

While Rollo was searching, Senor Munoz appeared at the door, languid and
careless as ever. He watched the young Scot opening ch