Montezuma's Daughter

mother's murder on the person of Juan de Garcia. But this was not so. So soon as I was settled in the house of Andres d

murder in England, that he would speak the truth as to his destination. Still I searched on. The house where my mother and grandmother had lived was burned down, and as their mode of life had been retired, after more than twenty years of change few even remembered their existence. Indeed I only discovered one, an old wo

d to beggary, in which condition the villain left her to die. So poor was she indeed, that she was buried in a public grave. After that the old woman, my informant, said she

ree months in Seville, and though it was of

nd beautiful figure and because she was weeping so violently that her body shook with her sobs. I was already well accustomed to such sights, for many of those who sought my master's counsel had go

had entered religion and taken her vows, when a gallant appears, meets her secretly in the convent garden, promises to marry her if she will fly with him, indeed does go through some mummery of marriage with her-so she says-and the rest of it. Now

took

. What I did not like to tell her is that her lover is the greatest villain who ever trod the streets of Seville. What was the good? She will see little more of him. Hist

through the darkened archways to learn the answer of the stars and pay many good pesos for it, a

as scarcely safe to be thus alone in such a place and hour, but the business with which I had been charged by my master was one that must be carried out unattended. Also I had no enemies whom I knew of, and was armed with the very sword that I had taken f

my brother Geoffrey persecuted her to marry him, and whether or no she would resist his importunities and her father's. And so as I walked musing I came to a water-gate that opened on to the Guadalquivir, and leaning upon the coping of a low wall I rested there idly to consider the beauty

ting, and since such sights are of interest to all, and more especially to the young, I watched the pair. Soon I learned that there was little of tenderness in this tryst, at least on the part of the gallant, who drew continually backwards toward me as though he would seek the boat by which doubtless he had come, and I marvelled at this, for the moonlight shone upon the woman

sworn; you will not have the heart to desert me. I abandoned everything for you. I

you what it is to live and love. Doubtless with your advantages and charms, your great charms, you will profit by the lesson. Money I cannot give you,

r skies Shine

poke so low that I cou

indeed, but it was not that which stirred me so deeply, it was the

e, thus alone and in such sore trouble and danger. Take me with you,

! it was he-Juan de Garcia and no other! I could not be mistaken. There was the deeply carved, cruel face, the high forehead with the scar on

stood before him, dra

id stepping back astonished. 'Your business, sen

e you chanced to meet a lady you had known, and to leave her dead? Or if you have forgotten, perhaps at least you

is the English boy

w purposes to finish what he began yonder as he has sworn.

wolf. Yet I saw that he had no mind to fight, not because of cowardice, for to do him justice he was no coward, but because of superstition. He feared to fight with

woman. If you believe that you have any grievance against me-though I know not of what you rave, or the name by which you

now,' I answered.

made me wild in my play, but soon I settled to the work and grew cooler. I meant to kill him-more, I knew that I should kill him if none came between us. He was still a better swordsman than I, who, t

ctory was in my hand disaster overtook me, for the woman, who had been watching bewildered, saw that her faithless lover was in danger of death and straightway seized me from behind, at the same time sending up shriek after shriek for help. I shook her from me quickly enough, but not before de Garcia, seeing his advantage, had dealt me a coward's thrust that took

h after me, but they were stout and scant of breath, and by the time that I had run three furlongs I distanced them. I halted to get my breath and remembered that I had lost de Garcia and did not know when I should find him again. At first I was minded to return and seek him, but reflection told me that by now it would be useless, also that the end of it might be that I should fall into the hands of the watch, who woul

of it, de Garcia passed under some feigned name as he had done at Yarmouth.

ys loved to keep my own counsel, and as yet I had not spoken of my past even to him. Going to the room where he was accustomed to receive patients, I found he had retired to

that was the beginning of the illness which ended in his death. As I mixed a draught for him he noticed that

en to a story?' I said, 'f

ld case, the physician cannot h

nd of the oath that I had sworn to be avenged upon him. Lastly I told him of what had happened upon the previous night and how my enemy had evaded me. All the while that I was speaking Fonseca,

ur fence you lost your chance last night, and so by over-caution in hiding this tale from me you have lost a far greater opportunity. What, have you not se

, 'but I thought that first

familiar. It was I also who bribed the keepers of the Holy Office to let your father loose, though, as it chanced, I never saw him, and arranged his flight. Since then, I have had de Garcia through my hands some four or five times, now under this name and now under that. Once even he came to me as a client, but the villainy that he would have worked was too black for me to touch. This man is the wickedest whom I have kn

heavy parchment volumes, each boun

em except myself. Now for the index. Ah! here it is. Give

im, and he began to read the crabbed marks as

ce, family, false names, and so o

ch a record as it contained I have never heard before nor since. Here, set out against this one man's name, was well nigh every wickedness of

knife, and one of a mistress by poison. And there were ot

olly, 'but these things I know for truth, and one of the murders could be prov

f Norfolk, he murdered Luisa Wingfield, spoken of above as Luisa de Garcia, his cousin, to whom he was once betrothed. In September of the same year, or prev

came to seek your help two nights si

had been safe in prison. But perhaps it is not yet too late. I am ill, but I will rise and see to it. Leave it to me, nephew. Go, nurse yourself,

onseca sent

him. He has vanished and left no trace. To-night I write to Cadiz, for he may have fled there down the river. One thing I have discovered, however. The Senora Isabella was caught by the watch, and be

e be re

lowed my counsel she wou

e communic

choose to speak with me, the indulgence may possibly be granted to her, though I doubt it. But it is not likely that she will wish to do so. Should she succeed in hiding her disgrace, she may escape; but it is not proba

' I an