chaunted the valet, at
the same time affecting to wash his hands.

"_Lavabo inter innocentes_, indeed," exclaimed Gomez Arias: "here's a
conscientious sinner with a vengeance! So you cannot light upon some
feasible design?"

"No, in very truth I cannot."

"Then who in the name of Satan can extricate me?" cried Gomez Arias, in
despair.

"I can!" answered a deep and determined voice.

Gomez Arias started, turned round, and with amazement beheld the
mysterious stranger standing, with folded arms, looking calmly upon him.

"And who art thou?" demanded Don Lope, "that presumest thus to intrude
upon my privacy?"

"Good Heavens! who should it be?" said Roque, not allowing time to the
stranger to give an answer; "why, my honored master, you piously invoked
Satan, and his diabolical majesty sends you forthwith one of his
emissaries."

"Stranger!" proceeded Gomez Arias, not heeding his valet, "what is thy
name?"

"To know that were superfluous," coldly answered the Moor, "and in
nowise necessary towards the acceptation of my services."

"And what assistance canst thou afford me? I know thee not--and yet
those features should not be entirely strangers to my eyes."

"It is possible that they are not," replied the stranger, unmoved, "nor
is your countenance altogether unknown to me."

"Who then art thou?" demanded Gomez Arias.

"Surely a Moor--a worthless Moor!" bitterly returned the renegade; for
it was no other that now addressed Don Lope;--nor did he feel
apprehensive of discovery, altered as he was by the conflict of his
passions, continual sufferings, and even by the dress which he had
adopted to baffle the penetration of Gomez Arias.

"Whoever I may be," continued the renegade, "is of no consequence; I
come to render you service--are you disposed to accept it?"

"I cannot," firmly replied Don Lope, "from an utter stranger, without
previously knowing the motives by which he is actuated."

"What!" exclaimed Bermudo, affecting surprise, "cannot you guess my
motives? Certainly, I do not pretend to deny that by assisting you
_now_, I chiefly mean to serve myself. You surely cannot expect more
from a perfect stranger, as you call me. Look at me, Christian!" he
added, stifling the conflict which was working in his bosom at the very
sight of his foe; "behold, I am a Moor--a miserable Moor. And what else
but interest could prompt a destitute, a desperate man to proffer his
services to the proud and rich ones of the