The watch!" exclaimed Phil, under his breath, "phew! I never thought
of that. If we should chance to encounter the watch we may yet have
trouble." A sudden inspiration came to him, and, stepping back into the
middle of the road, where his hooded figure might be seen from above, he
exclaimed, in a deep, solemn voice:

"Mateo Cervantes, in the name of the Holy Inquisition I command you to
open!"

"The Holy Inquisition! Ave Maria! What have I done?" ejaculated the
figure above, in evident trepidation. "Your pardon, Reverend Father,"
he continued, "I knew not who you were. I will be down instantly." And
the light vanished from the window.

"That was a good idea of mine," remarked Phil, in a whisper. "I thought
it would fetch him down. Now, I do not think it will be necessary to
seize and bind friend Cervantes immediately that he comes to the door.
He will admit us without question, no doubt; and after we are in and the
door is closed, we must be guided by circumstances, and act accordingly.
Here he comes."

A streak of light showed beneath the door; there was a sound of bolts
being drawn; and presently the door opened and a big, burly, elderly
man, his touzled hair touched with grey, and his body enveloped in a
long white nightgown, appeared; holding a candle above his head. As the
light fell upon the two hooded figures he involuntarily drew back with a
gasp, whereupon Phil and Dick stepped into the passage, closing the door
behind them.

"Holy Fathers," exclaimed Cervantes, dropping on his knees, placing the
candle on the floor beside him, and raising his hands in an attitude of
supplication, "I swear to you that I have done nothing; I am a good
Catholic--"

"Peace!" commanded Phil, raising his hand imperatively. "How many are
there in the house with you?"

"How many?" reiterated the trembling man. "I am alone, Reverend Father,
quite alone, I give you my solemn word. My workmen do not live here
with me; the house is not large enough--"

"It is well," interrupted Phil. "Now, rise to your feet, friend
Cervantes, and conduct us to your shop."

"My shop!" echoed the armourer. "I give you my word, Reverend Sirs,
that there is nothing in my shop that--"

"The less reason why you should hesitate to lead us thither,"
interrupted Phil, sternly.

"Of course; of course," agreed the man, anxiously. "Follow me, your
Reverences; I have nothing to conceal; nothing to conceal." Then,
scrambling to his feet