Chapter Nine.

Chapter Nine.How George visited the Holy Inquisition at San Juan.“A good man, in many respects; a very excellent man, indeed,” observed the alcalde, nodding toward the door by which Don Manuel had just quitted the apartment, “and admirable in the position which he occupies. As a soldier merely, he is all that one could possibly desire, brave to recklessness, and an admirable leader. But after all he is only a soldier fighting is his trade, but he knows nothing whatever about diplomacy; he does not understand that there is not only a time when men should fight but also a time when, if they are wise, they should forbear. It is a fortunate thing for us all, illustrious señor, that I and not he happens to be in authority at the present juncture; and I beg that you will not permit his cavalier-like behaviour to influence you in the slightest degree. And now, noble Capitan, if you have quite completed your business here, I will point out to you the way to the Inquisition, for time is pressing, and I am most anxious that no untoward accident shall occur to interfere with or delay your business in San Juan. And—I know not what may be the nature of your errand with the Holy Office, but, if I may be permitted to offer a suggestion, I would very strongly advise—nay more, I would most earnestly entreat—that you do nothing to wound the religious susceptibilities of the inhabitants, who regard the Inquisition, and all connected with it, with the utmost veneration and dread.”“Probably with even greater dread than veneration, eh, Don Juan?” remarked George, as he took up his hat and prepared to follow the alcalde out of the building.“Possibly, señor; possibly,” replied the alcalde, with reservation, as he led the way.Nothing more was said until the pair reached the street and rejoined Basset and his little band of armed men, who stood placidly facing a crowd of nearly a hundred men principally composed of the more lawless and ruffianly element which is to be found in the lower quarters of every city.The alcalde regarded this sullen-looking, but as yet merely passively hostile crowd for some moments with an expression of considerable alarm and misgiving; then, moved by the urgency of the occasion, he waved his hand to claim attention, and made a little speech in which he first rebuked the gathering for its discourtesy to the visitors by standing gaping at them as though they were so many wild beasts, after which he commanded them to disperse, warning them at the same time to interfere with the strangers at their peril, informing them that he would very severely punish any person who should dare to do so, and at the same time reminding them that the said strangers, though few, were trained soldiers, fully armed, who would themselves be quick to avenge the slightest interference or insult. He stood there until the last of the surly, scowling ruffians had moved slowly and unwillingly away, their movements finally hastened by the emergence of a party of soldiers from another wing of the building, and then, when they had all vanished, he furtively indicated to George the way to the Inquisition, and hurriedly removed himself from the scene.The Inquisition was situated at a distance of some ten minutes’ march from the Grand Plaza, and proved to be, when the party of Englishmen reached it, an extensive forbidding-looking, prison-like structure built of massive masonry, and apparently strong enough to withstand anything short of an attack by ordnance. The entrance consisted of an archway some twelve feet wide fitted with a pair of enormously thick iron-studded oaken doors, in one of which was a small wicket fitted with a grille. An iron chain, with a hand grip attached to its lower extremity, depending from a hole in the wall, indicated the means of communication with the interior, and this George tugged at violently, with the result that a loud bell immediately set up a furious clanging somewhere in the interior of the building. After an interval of nearly a minute this summons was replied to by a hooded friar who, having drawn the slide of the grille, peered out through the opening and querulously demanded to know who it was who raised such a clangour, and what was his business, to which George, who was the only person visible from the aperture of the grille, replied that he was a stranger who had urgent business of a strictly private nature with the Father Superior. Whereupon the slide of the grille was sharply closed, and the party faintly heard the shuffling footsteps of the friar receding.After an absence of nearly ten minutes the friar re-appeared at the grille, with a demand to be informed of the stranger’s name and the precise nature of his business with the Holy Father, to which George replied that it was useless for him to give his name, since it was quite unknown to the Father Superior, and that his business was not only most urgent but was for the Holy Father’s ear alone, and that it was imperative that he should be admitted without an instant’s unnecessary delay. A further and somewhat longer wait then ensued, and Basset was strongly urging the desirability of an attempt to burst the wicket open when the friar appeared for the third time and, shooting certain heavy bolts on the inside of the wicket, flung it open. To push his way in was for George the work of but a moment, when, to the dismay and indignation of the gatekeeper, he was instantly followed by eleven soldiers, armed to the teeth.“The keys!” exclaimed George, to Basset. “Take his keys from him, lock the gate, and station two men here as sentries, with orders to allow no one to leave the building. That is well,” as his orders were obeyed. “Now, the rest of you, follow me. Lead the way, old man, to the quarters of the Father Superior; I must see him forthwith. Are you the keeper also of the keys which give access to the cells?” to the friar who had admitted them.“No,” answered the cowering creature. “The gaoler carries those. But what would you with them, thou man of violence? No one is permitted to enter the cells without the permission of the Father Superior.”“Lead me to him, then,” repeated George. “Captain Basset,” he continued, “I will take two men with me. Take you the remainder and secure every door giving access to the exterior of this building. No man must on any account be allowed to leave it, for if that should happen, they will raise the inhabitants of the town upon us, and there will be bloodshed, which I wish to avoid, if possible. Now, sir,” to the friar, “lead the way.”While Basset marched off the remaining half-dozen of his men to execute George’s order, the latter, accompanied by two soldiers, followed his unwilling guide into the main building and down a long corridor to a door, at which the friar knocked with a trembling hand.“Enter!” responded a voice in Spanish, whereupon George, gently pushing his guide aside and beckoning the two soldiers to follow him, threw open the door and passed into the apartment. It was a large and very handsomely furnished room, containing a table, sofa, several lounging chairs, and a large book-case, full of books, facing the two wide and lofty windows which lighted the room and which looked out upon a spacious, beautifully kept garden. On one wall hung a large crucifix, the cross made of ebony while the exquisitely carved figure of the crucified Christ was of ivory, fastened to the cross with golden nails, while the crown of thorns which encircled the drooping head was also made of gold. Two large pictures, one of which represented the Descent from the Cross, and the other the Entombment, hung on either side of the crucifix; and the opposite wall was occupied by a very large and beautiful painting depicting the Apotheosis of the Virgin Mother.At the entrance of the three armed men a tall and dignified figure clad in priestly garments rose from the table and, with a ringer inserted between the pages of a book which he had been reading, haughtily demanded, in Spanish:“Who are you, sir; and what is the meaning of this unseemly—this audacious—intrusion upon my privacy?”George replied to this question by asking another. “Am I right,” he demanded, “in supposing you to be the Right Reverend Father Superior of this institution?”“And if I am, what then?” demanded the other.“Only that you are the man I happen to want,” replied George. “I am an Englishman,” he continued, “and the captain of a ship which holds this city at her mercy. I and my companions have come all the way from England to avenge the most foul and treacherous attack made by your Viceroy upon a fleet of English ships in this harbour, last year; and, incidentally, to call you, sir, to account for your treatment of certain of the prisoners taken upon that occasion, who were delivered into your hands. I have here—”“But—but—” interrupted the Father Superior—for such was the individual upon whose privacy George had so unceremoniously intruded—“I do not understand. Why have you been permitted to come here? Where are our soldiers, and what are they doing—?”“Have I not already explained that the town is at my mercy?” interrupted George in his turn. “What further enlightenment do you need? As to your soldiers, they dare not interfere with me, for my ship’s guns command the town, and my crew have orders to destroy the place if any attempt is made to resist me. Now, I have a list here”—drawing it from his pocket—“containing the names of sixteen men who, I am told, were claimed by this Inquisition; and my business with you is to demand an account of them. Where are they, and what have you done to them?”“How, in the name of all the saints, can I possibly answer your question, señor, unless you furnish me with the names of the men you refer to?” demanded the priest, with a valiant attempt to brazen the matter out, but there was a quaver in his voice which betrayed that he was beginning to feel anxious, if not actually apprehensive, concerning the outcome of this astounding business.“There is the list, señor,” answered George, laying the document on the table. “Take it, I pray you, and let me have an instant reply to my demand.”The Father Superior took the list and ran his eye over it, ponderingly. Then he laid it down again and said:“Señor Englishman, I cannot possibly answer your question offhand, for I do not tax my memory to recollect exactly how every person who enters the walls of this building has been dealt with. But if you will suffer me to ring for my secretary I have no doubt that, with his assistance, I can furnish you with the information you require.”“By all means,” assented George; and the Father Superior thereupon turned to the wall and jerked a bell rope. A slight interval followed, and then a very frightened priest entered.“Holy Father,” he began, “the building is in the possession of armed men—” and then, catching sight for the first time of George and the two soldiers, who were standing somewhat in the shadow, he stopped short, at the same time making the sign of the Cross.“Yes, proceed, Fray Matthew,” exhorted the other. “You were saying that the building is in the possession of armed men. What else?”“They have taken the gaoler, your Eminence, locked him in one of his own cells, and are now liberating the prisoners including one whom they have taken out of the very torture chamber itself.”“Is this true, señor?” demanded the Father Superior. “And, if so, is this sacrilege being committed by your orders?”“I know not whether that man’s story is true or not,” said George, “but I think it exceedingly probable; and, if so, it is certainly being done by my orders. As to the sacrilege of the thing—” the young man shrugged his shoulders expressively.The Holy Father also shrugged his shoulders, as though to say—“Well, if you are struck dead, don’t blame me; it will only be what you richly deserve.” Then he turned to Fray Matthew.“Fray,” he said, “bring me hither the book containing the record of persons admitted to the Inquisition during the past year, with particulars of the manner in which they have been dealt with.”The priest, with another frightened glance at George and the two stolid-looking soldiers, hurriedly retired; and as he vanished through the doorway the Father Superior coolly turned his back upon the Englishman and, sauntering to the nearest window, stood gazing contemplatively through it into the garden, which, George observed, was all ablaze with tropical flora. And there he remained, taking not the slightest notice of his self-invited visitors until, after an absence of some ten minutes, the Fray returned, bearing two enormous books under his arm, the which he laid upon the table. Then, sauntering back to the table as leisurely as he had left it, the Holy Father took up the list which George had handed to him, considered it for a moment, opened one of the two books which had been brought to him, referred to an index, and then turned over the pages of the book until he found the one which he wanted. Then he ran his finger down a column, paused, and looked up.“Here,” he said, looking up and addressing George, “is the entry referring to the first man on your list. It states that, after having been put to the question in various ways, he died, on—such a date, in his cell.”“Thank you,” said George. “Now, before we go any farther, I must ask you to kindly explain exactly what you mean when you speak of a man being ‘put to the question.’”For the first time the Father Superior exhibited distinct symptoms of uneasiness. He hesitated perceptibly, and at length replied:“The expression refers to certain means which are adopted in extreme cases when, for instance, the subject displays great obduracy, to persuade him to renounce his heresy, accept the canons of the true faith, and humbly sue for admission into the bosom of the Catholic Church.”“But that only partially answers my question,” retorted George. “You speak of ‘certain means which are adopted in extreme cases.’ What, precisely, is the nature of those means to which you refer?”The Holy Father’s uneasiness visibly increased, and he began to fence with the question.“I take it,” he said, after some consideration, “that you, my son, are a heretic, otherwise you would not be ignorant of the meaning of the expressions which I have used. That being the case, it seems necessary for me to explain that the Holy Inquisition is an institution which has been established for the especial purpose of saving the souls of heathens and heretics, even at the expense of their bodies, if need be. The human soul is of infinitely greater value than the human body; and it has been found that physical pain exerts a most beneficent influence upon those obdurate ones who evince a disinclination to accept the—the—”“Thanks,” interrupted George; “I will not trouble you to go on, for I think I now clearly understand what putting a person to the question means. It means, does it not—in plain, unvarnished language—the infliction upon an individual of such excruciating, such diabolical, torment that in most cases the individual will agree to anything you choose to suggest, will accept any kind of doctrine you choose to thrust upon him, rather than submit to further tortures?”“Well—of course—that is putting the matter very, very crudely,” admitted the Father Superior; “still, regarding the statement broadly, it is—well—in the main—very nearly true. But there is this to be said, this very important—”“Quite unnecessary, I assure you,” interposed George. “The broad fact is that you convert by means of bodily torment; and in some cases—where, as you say, ‘the subject displays great obduracy,’ the torment is so extreme and so protracted that the unhappy wretch dies under it. Is not that so?”“Yes—if you choose to so put it,” answered the Father Superior, “that is so. But again I must protest against the extreme crudity, the—”“And,” interrupted George, “this poor unfortunate fellow, the first on my list, is one of those who so died, is he not?”“Really, señor,” protested the Holy Father—“you—you—are not—are not giving—this matter—quite—quite fair—”“Answer me, señor, without equivocation; did, or did not this man, of whom we are now speaking, die as the result of your hellish torments?” rapped out George, suddenly becoming exasperated and heavily smiting the table with his clenched fist.“Reverend Father,” here interposed Fray Matthew, who could scarcely articulate because of his chattering teeth, “I pray you give me leave to retire. The violence of this heretic, this man of blood, frightens me.”“No,” answered George, before the other could speak. “Being here, you will remain. It is possible that I may need you to supply me with information which your superior may be unwilling or unable to give. Now, señor”—turning to the Father Superior—“answer me.”“Then—since you insist,” replied the Father Superior, “I can only reply that the man certainly did die as the result of being put to the question.”“Very well,” returned George, taking up the list and making a note upon it. “Now, as to the next one?”And again the long, tedious process of question and equivocation was gone through, over and over, until every name upon the list had been dealt with, when it finally appeared that, of the sixteen unhappy Englishmen who had become involved in the meshes of that terrible institution, the Holy Inquisition, no less than six had been burnt alive at the stake in the lastauto-da-fé, seven had died miserably as the result of the torments to which they had been subjected, and a poor residue of three only still languished in their cells!“And,” demanded George, when he had studied and fully digested the details of this terrible list—“who is responsible for this tremendous accumulation of ghastly human suffering and these hellish murders? You?”“No, thank God! not I,” asserted the Father Superior, now trembling for his life, and with all his recent arrogance completely evaporated. “I am merely the Head of the strictly ecclesiastical section of the institution; I have nothing whatever to do with the proselytising, which is undertaken by, and is entirely in the hands of, the Grand Inquisitor and his assistants.”“And where,” asked George, “are these people to be found?”“They are probably in—the—the—room—where—in which—persons are put to—to—the question,” was the stammered reply.“Ah!” exclaimed George. “I presume you mean the place which the fray, here, has more briefly designated as the ‘torture chamber.’ Very well; I must see the place, and also the Grand Inquisitor and his assistants; I have something very important to say to those—’m—people. Lead the way, reverend señor, if you please.” Then, turning to the two armed men who guarded the door, he added—“Take charge of these two men. For the present, they are prisoners.”The Father Superior possessed a certain knowledge of English, for as the last words passed George’s lips the terrified ecclesiastic quavered:“Prisoners, señor? Prisoners? What—what—do you mean? How dare you interfere with my liberty? This is downright, rank sacrilege; and if you dare to treat any of the inmates of this institution—and especially any members of the Holy Office—otherwise than with the utmost deference, you will—will—suffer severely for it.”“Pray lead on, señor,” retorted George, waving the agitated man toward the door. “Surely you must realise by this time that the institution and all within it are in my power. And I am what you please to term a ‘heretic’; the thunders of your Church have no terrors for me; I regard you and your associates merely as men who have been guilty of certain most atrocious crimes, and I am here for the express purpose of punishing the guilty ones.”The Father Superior evidently realised that, after this, there was no more to be said, and, between the two men-at-arms, and closely followed by the shivering fray, he accordingly passed out of the room and down a long corridor, into another, until a small door was reached, which, with evident fear and reluctance, he at length threw open, disclosing a most remarkable scene.The chamber thus revealed was a very large and lofty one, lighted by three large windows set high in the wall and heavily grated outside. And although the windows were all wide open, the atmosphere was oppressively close, and it was also charged with a very peculiar odour, evidently arising in part at least from the fumes of an ignited charcoal brazier, containing several curious-looking iron instruments thrust deep into its glowing heart. Immediately under the windows, and running the entire width of the chamber, was a platform or dais, some three feet high, the front portion of which was occupied by a long table, behind which were ranged nine chairs, the middle chair being of a much more ornate character than the rest, the carving of it being ecclesiastical in character, and upon the table, before each chair, was a supply of paper, pens and ink. The dais was a wooden structure, and was carpeted with black material; the tablecloth also was black, with the sacred monogram I.H.S. above a cross and surmounted by a crown of thorns embroidered upon it in silver thread. The floor of the remaining part of the chamber was flagged with paving slabs, and was bare, while the walls and ceiling were coloured black. In the centre of the wall behind the dais, between two of the four windows, hung an enormous crucifix, the figure of the Redeemer, very finely carved in wood and realistically painted in the colours of nature, being life-size. At the end of the room opposite the daïs was an engine or machine which even those who had never seen such a thing before might easily have identified as a rack; and there were four chairs, two on either side of the room, of such elaborate and sinister construction that there could be no question as to their being designed for the purpose of inflicting various kinds of ingenious and exquisite agony upon the unhappy occupants; while, in addition to these there was an instrument which clearly betrayed itself as a specimen of the notorious “boot.” Hung here and there upon the walls were other curious-looking instruments, the uses of which were not so readily determinable; and there were also a number of suggestive and sinister-looking ropes and pulleys depending from the ceiling.Such a room, so furnished, could not possibly fail to fix the attention of any person entering it for the first time, even in the character of a mere spectator, and George Saint Leger gazed about him for quite a minute with a feeling of keen curiosity that rapidly changed to mingled horror and anger as he began to recognise the character and purpose of the several objects that met his gaze; and then he turned to its occupants; for although, in order to present a clear and unconfused picture of the chamber, only its inanimate contents have thus far been referred to, the room was by no means empty of human occupants. On the contrary, in addition to those who had already entered, immediately inside the door, one on either side of it, stood two of Basset’s men-at-arms, with drawn swords and cocked pistols in their hands, while the nine chairs on the dais were occupied by nine motionless figures completely shrouded in garments of black cloth, wearing upon their heads a curious pointed head-dress, also of black cloth, which completely hid their heads and faces, but in which two holes were cut for them to see through. Seated in one of the torture chairs, but with the torturing apparatus now thrown out of gear, was a most dreadful-looking object bearing the semblance of a terribly emaciated man, worn to mere skin and bone by privation and suffering, clad in rags, his hair and beard long and unkempt, his skin and features white and bloodless, his eyes dim with anguish, the sweat of keen protracted agony still pouring out of him, while three ruffianly-looking men clad in scarlet ministered to him under Basset’s supervision. A fourth figure in scarlet lay motionless upon the nagged floor, his attitude proclaiming that death had suddenly overtaken him, while a blue-rimmed puncture in the centre of his forehead, from which blood still trickled, told clearly enough the manner of his death.For a long minute young Saint Leger gazed about him with fast increasing horror as he realised the diabolical purpose of the several engines that met his eye; then, gaspingly, he spoke.“So!” he ejaculated. “This is the chamber in which you torture your fellow creatures until in their agony they are fain to say whatever it pleases you that they should say, even to denying their faith, is it, señor?”“Nay, señor,” answered the Father Superior, “say not that it isIwho do these things. I have already repudiated all responsibility for what happens in this chamber. It is the Grand Inquisitor and his Assistant Inquisitors who reign supreme here. There they sit; ask them.”George stalked across to the middle of the chamber, and wheeled about, facing the row of nine motionless figures occupying the chairs.“I mean to do so,” he said, tersely. Then, addressing the nine, he said:“Señors, I have somewhat to say to you. But, first of all, be good enough to remove your hoods, that I may see your faces. I like not to talk with men whose features are hidden from me.”For a moment there was silence in the room, broken only by the low murmurings of Basset, who was speaking to the unfortunate “subject” in the chair. Then the figure occupying the middle chair on the dais rose to his feet and, stretching forth a long bony arm which projected to beyond the wrist from the loose sleeve of his black robe, said:“Depart, presumptuous youth! Go hence quickly, and take those misguided men, thy minions, with thee, lest I call down the wrath of Holy Mother Church upon thy sacrilegious head—and theirs. Who art thou, that thou should’st dare to—”“Reverend señor,” interrupted George, unceremoniously, “a fig for you and your sacrilege”—and he snapped his fingers contemptuously. “The wrath of thy Holy Mother Church has no terrors for me, though—understand me—I can respect any man’s religion, so long as he is sincere, and so long as he is willing to respect that of others and permit them to worship God in their own way. But, enough of this; I am not here to discuss theological questions, but to right a great wrong and to avenge fiendish crime and cruelty perpetrated in the sacred name of Him whose effigy hangs upon yonder cross behind you. Therefore I say once more, uncover,and let me see your faces—unless indeed you prefer that we should lay our sacrilegious hands upon you and remove your head-coverings ourselves!”“The Saints forbid!” ejaculated the Grand Inquisitor in horror. “Anything rather than that!”Then, turning to his companions, right and left, he added—“Uncover, my Brothers, since this heretical Englishman will have it so. It is not meet that we, the pillars of the Holy Catholic Church, unworthy though we be, should submit to insult and indignity at the hands of a pack of godless Lutheran dogs.” And, so saying, he seated himself and proceeded to remove his own head-covering, disclosing lean, ascetic features, cold, cruel, and domineering, crowned by the monk’s tonsure. At the same time the others did the same, and with very similar result, the dominant expression of the faces thus disclosed being that of cold, stern ruthlessness, tempered, it must be confessed, in some cases, with very evident signs of fear.“So! that is better,” commented George. “Now, señors,” he continued, “I am not going to make a long business of my talk with you, for we have already wasted far too much time in this accursed building. I have but a few questions to ask; and you will do well to answer them briefly and to the point. This chamber, I perceive, is what is usually termed in the outside world, ‘the torture chamber’; and I gather that it is here you subject those whom you stigmatise as heretics to unspeakable torments for the purpose of compelling them to forswear themselves and embrace your religion against their will. Now, which of you is responsible for the hellish suffering that goes on from time to time within these four walls?”“Since you insist upon our replying to your insolent questions,” answered the Grand Inquisitor, contemptuously, “know, young man, that none is more responsible than another. We whom you see seated here are appointed by our Order to promote the honour and interest of the Church of which we are most humble and unworthy members, by winning souls to her, and converting the heathen and heretics generally to the true faith. We have various methods of doing this. In the first instance we use teaching, persuasion, exhortation; and sometimes these methods suffice. But when they fail—as they do sometimes, in the case of the contumacious, there is a blessed power in bodily suffering which, loath as we are to employ it, we force ourselves to resort to, convinced that, by saving the soul at the cost of the body, we are doing a righteous and merciful thing. But even in inflicting suffering we are merciful, for we regulate the amount and quality of the suffering by the extent of the contumacy of the subject, making it light and transient at the first, and only increasing it in sharpness and duration when we find the other insufficient. And in all cases the character of the punishment is the subject of long and anxious deliberation, in which we all join, and no punishment of any kind is ever inflicted until we all—I and my eight Brothers here—are agreed as to its expediency, character, and amount. Also we are always present upon such occasions, in order that the punishment may be stopped upon the instant that conversion takes place.”“I see,” said George. “Are you all agreed”—addressing the assistants, “that what your Grand Inquisitor has stated is the exact truth?”“Si, si; yes, we are all agreed,” came first from one and then another, until all had spoken.“Then,” continued George, “I am to take it that you are all alike equally responsible for what is done in this chamber?”It was evident that a large proportion of the Assistant Inquisitors were inclined to jib at the word “responsible”; but the young Captain insisted upon each man giving a categorical reply to the question; and in the end, stimulated further by the stern looks of the Grand Inquisitor, they all replied in the affirmative.“Very good,” commented George. “Now, I have but one other question to ask. Is it you, as a body, who condemn certain of your victims to the hideous fate of being burnt alive in theauto-da-fé?”Even the Grand Inquisitor, hitherto in a great measure blinded by his bigotry, and his absolute faith in the sanctity of his office and the complete protection which it afforded him, blanched at the directness and significance of this last question; but still, unable even now to fully realise the awful danger in which he stood, he gave a somewhat rambling and excusatory reply which, however, was a full admission of responsibility for the deed with which George charged him and his associates.“Good!” said George; “you have now afforded me all the information which I desired to obtain. All that remains for you, señors, is to make your peace with God as best you can; for I have constituted myself the avenger of all the accumulated agony that the walls of this chamber and the stones of the Grand Plaza have witnessed; and within the next half-houryou die!”

“A good man, in many respects; a very excellent man, indeed,” observed the alcalde, nodding toward the door by which Don Manuel had just quitted the apartment, “and admirable in the position which he occupies. As a soldier merely, he is all that one could possibly desire, brave to recklessness, and an admirable leader. But after all he is only a soldier fighting is his trade, but he knows nothing whatever about diplomacy; he does not understand that there is not only a time when men should fight but also a time when, if they are wise, they should forbear. It is a fortunate thing for us all, illustrious señor, that I and not he happens to be in authority at the present juncture; and I beg that you will not permit his cavalier-like behaviour to influence you in the slightest degree. And now, noble Capitan, if you have quite completed your business here, I will point out to you the way to the Inquisition, for time is pressing, and I am most anxious that no untoward accident shall occur to interfere with or delay your business in San Juan. And—I know not what may be the nature of your errand with the Holy Office, but, if I may be permitted to offer a suggestion, I would very strongly advise—nay more, I would most earnestly entreat—that you do nothing to wound the religious susceptibilities of the inhabitants, who regard the Inquisition, and all connected with it, with the utmost veneration and dread.”

“Probably with even greater dread than veneration, eh, Don Juan?” remarked George, as he took up his hat and prepared to follow the alcalde out of the building.

“Possibly, señor; possibly,” replied the alcalde, with reservation, as he led the way.

Nothing more was said until the pair reached the street and rejoined Basset and his little band of armed men, who stood placidly facing a crowd of nearly a hundred men principally composed of the more lawless and ruffianly element which is to be found in the lower quarters of every city.

The alcalde regarded this sullen-looking, but as yet merely passively hostile crowd for some moments with an expression of considerable alarm and misgiving; then, moved by the urgency of the occasion, he waved his hand to claim attention, and made a little speech in which he first rebuked the gathering for its discourtesy to the visitors by standing gaping at them as though they were so many wild beasts, after which he commanded them to disperse, warning them at the same time to interfere with the strangers at their peril, informing them that he would very severely punish any person who should dare to do so, and at the same time reminding them that the said strangers, though few, were trained soldiers, fully armed, who would themselves be quick to avenge the slightest interference or insult. He stood there until the last of the surly, scowling ruffians had moved slowly and unwillingly away, their movements finally hastened by the emergence of a party of soldiers from another wing of the building, and then, when they had all vanished, he furtively indicated to George the way to the Inquisition, and hurriedly removed himself from the scene.

The Inquisition was situated at a distance of some ten minutes’ march from the Grand Plaza, and proved to be, when the party of Englishmen reached it, an extensive forbidding-looking, prison-like structure built of massive masonry, and apparently strong enough to withstand anything short of an attack by ordnance. The entrance consisted of an archway some twelve feet wide fitted with a pair of enormously thick iron-studded oaken doors, in one of which was a small wicket fitted with a grille. An iron chain, with a hand grip attached to its lower extremity, depending from a hole in the wall, indicated the means of communication with the interior, and this George tugged at violently, with the result that a loud bell immediately set up a furious clanging somewhere in the interior of the building. After an interval of nearly a minute this summons was replied to by a hooded friar who, having drawn the slide of the grille, peered out through the opening and querulously demanded to know who it was who raised such a clangour, and what was his business, to which George, who was the only person visible from the aperture of the grille, replied that he was a stranger who had urgent business of a strictly private nature with the Father Superior. Whereupon the slide of the grille was sharply closed, and the party faintly heard the shuffling footsteps of the friar receding.

After an absence of nearly ten minutes the friar re-appeared at the grille, with a demand to be informed of the stranger’s name and the precise nature of his business with the Holy Father, to which George replied that it was useless for him to give his name, since it was quite unknown to the Father Superior, and that his business was not only most urgent but was for the Holy Father’s ear alone, and that it was imperative that he should be admitted without an instant’s unnecessary delay. A further and somewhat longer wait then ensued, and Basset was strongly urging the desirability of an attempt to burst the wicket open when the friar appeared for the third time and, shooting certain heavy bolts on the inside of the wicket, flung it open. To push his way in was for George the work of but a moment, when, to the dismay and indignation of the gatekeeper, he was instantly followed by eleven soldiers, armed to the teeth.

“The keys!” exclaimed George, to Basset. “Take his keys from him, lock the gate, and station two men here as sentries, with orders to allow no one to leave the building. That is well,” as his orders were obeyed. “Now, the rest of you, follow me. Lead the way, old man, to the quarters of the Father Superior; I must see him forthwith. Are you the keeper also of the keys which give access to the cells?” to the friar who had admitted them.

“No,” answered the cowering creature. “The gaoler carries those. But what would you with them, thou man of violence? No one is permitted to enter the cells without the permission of the Father Superior.”

“Lead me to him, then,” repeated George. “Captain Basset,” he continued, “I will take two men with me. Take you the remainder and secure every door giving access to the exterior of this building. No man must on any account be allowed to leave it, for if that should happen, they will raise the inhabitants of the town upon us, and there will be bloodshed, which I wish to avoid, if possible. Now, sir,” to the friar, “lead the way.”

While Basset marched off the remaining half-dozen of his men to execute George’s order, the latter, accompanied by two soldiers, followed his unwilling guide into the main building and down a long corridor to a door, at which the friar knocked with a trembling hand.

“Enter!” responded a voice in Spanish, whereupon George, gently pushing his guide aside and beckoning the two soldiers to follow him, threw open the door and passed into the apartment. It was a large and very handsomely furnished room, containing a table, sofa, several lounging chairs, and a large book-case, full of books, facing the two wide and lofty windows which lighted the room and which looked out upon a spacious, beautifully kept garden. On one wall hung a large crucifix, the cross made of ebony while the exquisitely carved figure of the crucified Christ was of ivory, fastened to the cross with golden nails, while the crown of thorns which encircled the drooping head was also made of gold. Two large pictures, one of which represented the Descent from the Cross, and the other the Entombment, hung on either side of the crucifix; and the opposite wall was occupied by a very large and beautiful painting depicting the Apotheosis of the Virgin Mother.

At the entrance of the three armed men a tall and dignified figure clad in priestly garments rose from the table and, with a ringer inserted between the pages of a book which he had been reading, haughtily demanded, in Spanish:

“Who are you, sir; and what is the meaning of this unseemly—this audacious—intrusion upon my privacy?”

George replied to this question by asking another. “Am I right,” he demanded, “in supposing you to be the Right Reverend Father Superior of this institution?”

“And if I am, what then?” demanded the other.

“Only that you are the man I happen to want,” replied George. “I am an Englishman,” he continued, “and the captain of a ship which holds this city at her mercy. I and my companions have come all the way from England to avenge the most foul and treacherous attack made by your Viceroy upon a fleet of English ships in this harbour, last year; and, incidentally, to call you, sir, to account for your treatment of certain of the prisoners taken upon that occasion, who were delivered into your hands. I have here—”

“But—but—” interrupted the Father Superior—for such was the individual upon whose privacy George had so unceremoniously intruded—“I do not understand. Why have you been permitted to come here? Where are our soldiers, and what are they doing—?”

“Have I not already explained that the town is at my mercy?” interrupted George in his turn. “What further enlightenment do you need? As to your soldiers, they dare not interfere with me, for my ship’s guns command the town, and my crew have orders to destroy the place if any attempt is made to resist me. Now, I have a list here”—drawing it from his pocket—“containing the names of sixteen men who, I am told, were claimed by this Inquisition; and my business with you is to demand an account of them. Where are they, and what have you done to them?”

“How, in the name of all the saints, can I possibly answer your question, señor, unless you furnish me with the names of the men you refer to?” demanded the priest, with a valiant attempt to brazen the matter out, but there was a quaver in his voice which betrayed that he was beginning to feel anxious, if not actually apprehensive, concerning the outcome of this astounding business.

“There is the list, señor,” answered George, laying the document on the table. “Take it, I pray you, and let me have an instant reply to my demand.”

The Father Superior took the list and ran his eye over it, ponderingly. Then he laid it down again and said:

“Señor Englishman, I cannot possibly answer your question offhand, for I do not tax my memory to recollect exactly how every person who enters the walls of this building has been dealt with. But if you will suffer me to ring for my secretary I have no doubt that, with his assistance, I can furnish you with the information you require.”

“By all means,” assented George; and the Father Superior thereupon turned to the wall and jerked a bell rope. A slight interval followed, and then a very frightened priest entered.

“Holy Father,” he began, “the building is in the possession of armed men—” and then, catching sight for the first time of George and the two soldiers, who were standing somewhat in the shadow, he stopped short, at the same time making the sign of the Cross.

“Yes, proceed, Fray Matthew,” exhorted the other. “You were saying that the building is in the possession of armed men. What else?”

“They have taken the gaoler, your Eminence, locked him in one of his own cells, and are now liberating the prisoners including one whom they have taken out of the very torture chamber itself.”

“Is this true, señor?” demanded the Father Superior. “And, if so, is this sacrilege being committed by your orders?”

“I know not whether that man’s story is true or not,” said George, “but I think it exceedingly probable; and, if so, it is certainly being done by my orders. As to the sacrilege of the thing—” the young man shrugged his shoulders expressively.

The Holy Father also shrugged his shoulders, as though to say—“Well, if you are struck dead, don’t blame me; it will only be what you richly deserve.” Then he turned to Fray Matthew.

“Fray,” he said, “bring me hither the book containing the record of persons admitted to the Inquisition during the past year, with particulars of the manner in which they have been dealt with.”

The priest, with another frightened glance at George and the two stolid-looking soldiers, hurriedly retired; and as he vanished through the doorway the Father Superior coolly turned his back upon the Englishman and, sauntering to the nearest window, stood gazing contemplatively through it into the garden, which, George observed, was all ablaze with tropical flora. And there he remained, taking not the slightest notice of his self-invited visitors until, after an absence of some ten minutes, the Fray returned, bearing two enormous books under his arm, the which he laid upon the table. Then, sauntering back to the table as leisurely as he had left it, the Holy Father took up the list which George had handed to him, considered it for a moment, opened one of the two books which had been brought to him, referred to an index, and then turned over the pages of the book until he found the one which he wanted. Then he ran his finger down a column, paused, and looked up.

“Here,” he said, looking up and addressing George, “is the entry referring to the first man on your list. It states that, after having been put to the question in various ways, he died, on—such a date, in his cell.”

“Thank you,” said George. “Now, before we go any farther, I must ask you to kindly explain exactly what you mean when you speak of a man being ‘put to the question.’”

For the first time the Father Superior exhibited distinct symptoms of uneasiness. He hesitated perceptibly, and at length replied:

“The expression refers to certain means which are adopted in extreme cases when, for instance, the subject displays great obduracy, to persuade him to renounce his heresy, accept the canons of the true faith, and humbly sue for admission into the bosom of the Catholic Church.”

“But that only partially answers my question,” retorted George. “You speak of ‘certain means which are adopted in extreme cases.’ What, precisely, is the nature of those means to which you refer?”

The Holy Father’s uneasiness visibly increased, and he began to fence with the question.

“I take it,” he said, after some consideration, “that you, my son, are a heretic, otherwise you would not be ignorant of the meaning of the expressions which I have used. That being the case, it seems necessary for me to explain that the Holy Inquisition is an institution which has been established for the especial purpose of saving the souls of heathens and heretics, even at the expense of their bodies, if need be. The human soul is of infinitely greater value than the human body; and it has been found that physical pain exerts a most beneficent influence upon those obdurate ones who evince a disinclination to accept the—the—”

“Thanks,” interrupted George; “I will not trouble you to go on, for I think I now clearly understand what putting a person to the question means. It means, does it not—in plain, unvarnished language—the infliction upon an individual of such excruciating, such diabolical, torment that in most cases the individual will agree to anything you choose to suggest, will accept any kind of doctrine you choose to thrust upon him, rather than submit to further tortures?”

“Well—of course—that is putting the matter very, very crudely,” admitted the Father Superior; “still, regarding the statement broadly, it is—well—in the main—very nearly true. But there is this to be said, this very important—”

“Quite unnecessary, I assure you,” interposed George. “The broad fact is that you convert by means of bodily torment; and in some cases—where, as you say, ‘the subject displays great obduracy,’ the torment is so extreme and so protracted that the unhappy wretch dies under it. Is not that so?”

“Yes—if you choose to so put it,” answered the Father Superior, “that is so. But again I must protest against the extreme crudity, the—”

“And,” interrupted George, “this poor unfortunate fellow, the first on my list, is one of those who so died, is he not?”

“Really, señor,” protested the Holy Father—“you—you—are not—are not giving—this matter—quite—quite fair—”

“Answer me, señor, without equivocation; did, or did not this man, of whom we are now speaking, die as the result of your hellish torments?” rapped out George, suddenly becoming exasperated and heavily smiting the table with his clenched fist.

“Reverend Father,” here interposed Fray Matthew, who could scarcely articulate because of his chattering teeth, “I pray you give me leave to retire. The violence of this heretic, this man of blood, frightens me.”

“No,” answered George, before the other could speak. “Being here, you will remain. It is possible that I may need you to supply me with information which your superior may be unwilling or unable to give. Now, señor”—turning to the Father Superior—“answer me.”

“Then—since you insist,” replied the Father Superior, “I can only reply that the man certainly did die as the result of being put to the question.”

“Very well,” returned George, taking up the list and making a note upon it. “Now, as to the next one?”

And again the long, tedious process of question and equivocation was gone through, over and over, until every name upon the list had been dealt with, when it finally appeared that, of the sixteen unhappy Englishmen who had become involved in the meshes of that terrible institution, the Holy Inquisition, no less than six had been burnt alive at the stake in the lastauto-da-fé, seven had died miserably as the result of the torments to which they had been subjected, and a poor residue of three only still languished in their cells!

“And,” demanded George, when he had studied and fully digested the details of this terrible list—“who is responsible for this tremendous accumulation of ghastly human suffering and these hellish murders? You?”

“No, thank God! not I,” asserted the Father Superior, now trembling for his life, and with all his recent arrogance completely evaporated. “I am merely the Head of the strictly ecclesiastical section of the institution; I have nothing whatever to do with the proselytising, which is undertaken by, and is entirely in the hands of, the Grand Inquisitor and his assistants.”

“And where,” asked George, “are these people to be found?”

“They are probably in—the—the—room—where—in which—persons are put to—to—the question,” was the stammered reply.

“Ah!” exclaimed George. “I presume you mean the place which the fray, here, has more briefly designated as the ‘torture chamber.’ Very well; I must see the place, and also the Grand Inquisitor and his assistants; I have something very important to say to those—’m—people. Lead the way, reverend señor, if you please.” Then, turning to the two armed men who guarded the door, he added—“Take charge of these two men. For the present, they are prisoners.”

The Father Superior possessed a certain knowledge of English, for as the last words passed George’s lips the terrified ecclesiastic quavered:

“Prisoners, señor? Prisoners? What—what—do you mean? How dare you interfere with my liberty? This is downright, rank sacrilege; and if you dare to treat any of the inmates of this institution—and especially any members of the Holy Office—otherwise than with the utmost deference, you will—will—suffer severely for it.”

“Pray lead on, señor,” retorted George, waving the agitated man toward the door. “Surely you must realise by this time that the institution and all within it are in my power. And I am what you please to term a ‘heretic’; the thunders of your Church have no terrors for me; I regard you and your associates merely as men who have been guilty of certain most atrocious crimes, and I am here for the express purpose of punishing the guilty ones.”

The Father Superior evidently realised that, after this, there was no more to be said, and, between the two men-at-arms, and closely followed by the shivering fray, he accordingly passed out of the room and down a long corridor, into another, until a small door was reached, which, with evident fear and reluctance, he at length threw open, disclosing a most remarkable scene.

The chamber thus revealed was a very large and lofty one, lighted by three large windows set high in the wall and heavily grated outside. And although the windows were all wide open, the atmosphere was oppressively close, and it was also charged with a very peculiar odour, evidently arising in part at least from the fumes of an ignited charcoal brazier, containing several curious-looking iron instruments thrust deep into its glowing heart. Immediately under the windows, and running the entire width of the chamber, was a platform or dais, some three feet high, the front portion of which was occupied by a long table, behind which were ranged nine chairs, the middle chair being of a much more ornate character than the rest, the carving of it being ecclesiastical in character, and upon the table, before each chair, was a supply of paper, pens and ink. The dais was a wooden structure, and was carpeted with black material; the tablecloth also was black, with the sacred monogram I.H.S. above a cross and surmounted by a crown of thorns embroidered upon it in silver thread. The floor of the remaining part of the chamber was flagged with paving slabs, and was bare, while the walls and ceiling were coloured black. In the centre of the wall behind the dais, between two of the four windows, hung an enormous crucifix, the figure of the Redeemer, very finely carved in wood and realistically painted in the colours of nature, being life-size. At the end of the room opposite the daïs was an engine or machine which even those who had never seen such a thing before might easily have identified as a rack; and there were four chairs, two on either side of the room, of such elaborate and sinister construction that there could be no question as to their being designed for the purpose of inflicting various kinds of ingenious and exquisite agony upon the unhappy occupants; while, in addition to these there was an instrument which clearly betrayed itself as a specimen of the notorious “boot.” Hung here and there upon the walls were other curious-looking instruments, the uses of which were not so readily determinable; and there were also a number of suggestive and sinister-looking ropes and pulleys depending from the ceiling.

Such a room, so furnished, could not possibly fail to fix the attention of any person entering it for the first time, even in the character of a mere spectator, and George Saint Leger gazed about him for quite a minute with a feeling of keen curiosity that rapidly changed to mingled horror and anger as he began to recognise the character and purpose of the several objects that met his gaze; and then he turned to its occupants; for although, in order to present a clear and unconfused picture of the chamber, only its inanimate contents have thus far been referred to, the room was by no means empty of human occupants. On the contrary, in addition to those who had already entered, immediately inside the door, one on either side of it, stood two of Basset’s men-at-arms, with drawn swords and cocked pistols in their hands, while the nine chairs on the dais were occupied by nine motionless figures completely shrouded in garments of black cloth, wearing upon their heads a curious pointed head-dress, also of black cloth, which completely hid their heads and faces, but in which two holes were cut for them to see through. Seated in one of the torture chairs, but with the torturing apparatus now thrown out of gear, was a most dreadful-looking object bearing the semblance of a terribly emaciated man, worn to mere skin and bone by privation and suffering, clad in rags, his hair and beard long and unkempt, his skin and features white and bloodless, his eyes dim with anguish, the sweat of keen protracted agony still pouring out of him, while three ruffianly-looking men clad in scarlet ministered to him under Basset’s supervision. A fourth figure in scarlet lay motionless upon the nagged floor, his attitude proclaiming that death had suddenly overtaken him, while a blue-rimmed puncture in the centre of his forehead, from which blood still trickled, told clearly enough the manner of his death.

For a long minute young Saint Leger gazed about him with fast increasing horror as he realised the diabolical purpose of the several engines that met his eye; then, gaspingly, he spoke.

“So!” he ejaculated. “This is the chamber in which you torture your fellow creatures until in their agony they are fain to say whatever it pleases you that they should say, even to denying their faith, is it, señor?”

“Nay, señor,” answered the Father Superior, “say not that it isIwho do these things. I have already repudiated all responsibility for what happens in this chamber. It is the Grand Inquisitor and his Assistant Inquisitors who reign supreme here. There they sit; ask them.”

George stalked across to the middle of the chamber, and wheeled about, facing the row of nine motionless figures occupying the chairs.

“I mean to do so,” he said, tersely. Then, addressing the nine, he said:

“Señors, I have somewhat to say to you. But, first of all, be good enough to remove your hoods, that I may see your faces. I like not to talk with men whose features are hidden from me.”

For a moment there was silence in the room, broken only by the low murmurings of Basset, who was speaking to the unfortunate “subject” in the chair. Then the figure occupying the middle chair on the dais rose to his feet and, stretching forth a long bony arm which projected to beyond the wrist from the loose sleeve of his black robe, said:

“Depart, presumptuous youth! Go hence quickly, and take those misguided men, thy minions, with thee, lest I call down the wrath of Holy Mother Church upon thy sacrilegious head—and theirs. Who art thou, that thou should’st dare to—”

“Reverend señor,” interrupted George, unceremoniously, “a fig for you and your sacrilege”—and he snapped his fingers contemptuously. “The wrath of thy Holy Mother Church has no terrors for me, though—understand me—I can respect any man’s religion, so long as he is sincere, and so long as he is willing to respect that of others and permit them to worship God in their own way. But, enough of this; I am not here to discuss theological questions, but to right a great wrong and to avenge fiendish crime and cruelty perpetrated in the sacred name of Him whose effigy hangs upon yonder cross behind you. Therefore I say once more, uncover,and let me see your faces—unless indeed you prefer that we should lay our sacrilegious hands upon you and remove your head-coverings ourselves!”

“The Saints forbid!” ejaculated the Grand Inquisitor in horror. “Anything rather than that!”

Then, turning to his companions, right and left, he added—“Uncover, my Brothers, since this heretical Englishman will have it so. It is not meet that we, the pillars of the Holy Catholic Church, unworthy though we be, should submit to insult and indignity at the hands of a pack of godless Lutheran dogs.” And, so saying, he seated himself and proceeded to remove his own head-covering, disclosing lean, ascetic features, cold, cruel, and domineering, crowned by the monk’s tonsure. At the same time the others did the same, and with very similar result, the dominant expression of the faces thus disclosed being that of cold, stern ruthlessness, tempered, it must be confessed, in some cases, with very evident signs of fear.

“So! that is better,” commented George. “Now, señors,” he continued, “I am not going to make a long business of my talk with you, for we have already wasted far too much time in this accursed building. I have but a few questions to ask; and you will do well to answer them briefly and to the point. This chamber, I perceive, is what is usually termed in the outside world, ‘the torture chamber’; and I gather that it is here you subject those whom you stigmatise as heretics to unspeakable torments for the purpose of compelling them to forswear themselves and embrace your religion against their will. Now, which of you is responsible for the hellish suffering that goes on from time to time within these four walls?”

“Since you insist upon our replying to your insolent questions,” answered the Grand Inquisitor, contemptuously, “know, young man, that none is more responsible than another. We whom you see seated here are appointed by our Order to promote the honour and interest of the Church of which we are most humble and unworthy members, by winning souls to her, and converting the heathen and heretics generally to the true faith. We have various methods of doing this. In the first instance we use teaching, persuasion, exhortation; and sometimes these methods suffice. But when they fail—as they do sometimes, in the case of the contumacious, there is a blessed power in bodily suffering which, loath as we are to employ it, we force ourselves to resort to, convinced that, by saving the soul at the cost of the body, we are doing a righteous and merciful thing. But even in inflicting suffering we are merciful, for we regulate the amount and quality of the suffering by the extent of the contumacy of the subject, making it light and transient at the first, and only increasing it in sharpness and duration when we find the other insufficient. And in all cases the character of the punishment is the subject of long and anxious deliberation, in which we all join, and no punishment of any kind is ever inflicted until we all—I and my eight Brothers here—are agreed as to its expediency, character, and amount. Also we are always present upon such occasions, in order that the punishment may be stopped upon the instant that conversion takes place.”

“I see,” said George. “Are you all agreed”—addressing the assistants, “that what your Grand Inquisitor has stated is the exact truth?”

“Si, si; yes, we are all agreed,” came first from one and then another, until all had spoken.

“Then,” continued George, “I am to take it that you are all alike equally responsible for what is done in this chamber?”

It was evident that a large proportion of the Assistant Inquisitors were inclined to jib at the word “responsible”; but the young Captain insisted upon each man giving a categorical reply to the question; and in the end, stimulated further by the stern looks of the Grand Inquisitor, they all replied in the affirmative.

“Very good,” commented George. “Now, I have but one other question to ask. Is it you, as a body, who condemn certain of your victims to the hideous fate of being burnt alive in theauto-da-fé?”

Even the Grand Inquisitor, hitherto in a great measure blinded by his bigotry, and his absolute faith in the sanctity of his office and the complete protection which it afforded him, blanched at the directness and significance of this last question; but still, unable even now to fully realise the awful danger in which he stood, he gave a somewhat rambling and excusatory reply which, however, was a full admission of responsibility for the deed with which George charged him and his associates.

“Good!” said George; “you have now afforded me all the information which I desired to obtain. All that remains for you, señors, is to make your peace with God as best you can; for I have constituted myself the avenger of all the accumulated agony that the walls of this chamber and the stones of the Grand Plaza have witnessed; and within the next half-houryou die!”

Chapter Ten.How the plate ships sought to escape from San Juan.“We die?” reiterated the Grand Inquisitor, now at last fully awakened to the tremendous gravity of the situation. “And pray, señor, at whose behest do we die?”“At mine, most reverend señor,” answered George, simply. “Have I not yet succeeded in making that clear to you?”“That means, then, that you intend to murder us?” demanded the Grand Inquisitor, with pale, tremulous lips.“Señores,” replied George, in a tone of finality, “it matters not to me how you choose to designate your impending execution. Call it murder, if the expression affords you any satisfaction.Icall it an act of stern justice, the richly merited punishment due to a long series of atrociously inhuman crimes committed by you, if not actually with your own hands, at least by your orders. Such crimes as you and your associates have most callously and cold-bloodedly committed under the cloak of religion deserve a far more severe punishment than the mere deprivation of life, and if I were constituted like yourselves I should make that deprivation of life a long, lingering agony, a slow death of exquisite torment, such as you have inflicted upon countless victims; but torture is indescribably repugnant to the mind of an Englishman, therefore I intend to carry out the death-sentence which I have passed upon you, as mercifully as possible, by causing you to be shot—with one exception, that exception being in the case of the Grand Inquisitor, whom I purpose to hang, as an example to others. And I have taken upon myself the terrible task and responsibility of execution, for the simple reason that there is no other who will do so; and justicemustbe satisfied. And now, having said all that there is to be said, I leave you all to prepare for death as best you may.” Whereupon, the young man, with stern, set face, turned away and walked over to Basset, who was still doing what he could to alleviate the sufferings of the latest victim to the Inquisition’s merciless methods of conversion.“Well, Basset,” he said, indicating the unfortunate individual in the chair, “whom have we here? He looks to me something like an Englishman.”“So he be,” answered Basset. “He says his name be Job Winter, and that he was one of the crew of Admiral Hawkins’ ship, theMinion. He’ve been in this hell upon earth since last August, and all that time they fiends in human form up there,” indicating the occupants of the dais, “have been trying their hardest to make a good Catholic of him. And this is how they’ve been doing it. Look to mun.” And very gently and tenderly the soldier disclosed certain horrible and blood-curdling injuries very recently inflicted, together with a number of healed and half-healed scars which bore eloquent testimony to a long period of dreadful torment. So frightful was the sight that both the beholders fairly reeled under the horrible qualm of sickness and repulsion induced by it, and if anything further was needed to confirm the young Captain in his full determination to make an example of the Inquisitors, he found it in the revolting spectacle before him.“My poor dear man,” he said, his voice quivering with compassion, “what you must have suffered! But, cheer up; we are Englishmen and Devon men, like yourself, and one of our purposes in coming here was to deliver you out of the hands of these Spanish devils, and we’ll do it, too. We’ve a good surgeon aboard our ship, and you shall be in his hands this very day, please God. Are there any more of you in this place?”“He doesn’t know, poor soul,” answered Basset, interposing, “but I do; there be two more Englishmen that we’ve found in the cells; and they’m almost so bad as this man. We found ’em safely locked up; but they’m out now and being taken care of by our men.”“Can they walk?” demanded George.“A few yards, perhaps,” surmised Basset, “but not so far as the wharf.”“Then they must be carried,” decided George. “And these men,” indicating the scarlet-garbed individuals, whose business it evidently was to actually carry out the fiendish commands of the Inquisitors—“shall help to do it. I dare say we can find all the additional help we need somewhere in this building. I will go out and see to it; and, meanwhile, you will remain here and see that none of these persons escape.”“Ay, ay,” responded Basset, “I’ll take care of that, trust me. I don’t think there’ll be any trouble, after the example I made of that fellow,” pointing to the prostrate figure on the paved floor. “The rascal presumed to dispute my authority when I came in here and told everybody that they were prisoners, and—there a be! No, I don’t think there’ll be any more trouble.”Whereupon George passed from the terrible chamber with its fearful evidences of the dreadful lengths to which misguided fanaticism will occasionally carry men, even in the cause of religion, and proceeded to busy himself in making all the arrangements necessary for the comfortable conveyance of the three unfortunate victims of Inquisitional cruelty down to the ship.The thing was done! Righteously, or unrighteously, it was done at last, and the little party of stern, inflexible-visaged Englishmen emerged from the Inquisition building of San Juan de Ulua grouped protectively round the three litters in which lay the quivering, emaciated, anguished bodies of their fellow-countrymen, delivered, against all hope, from a fate a thousand times worse than any ordinary kind of death, while within the gloomy, forbidding walls of the building they left behind them nine corpses as a warning and example that, even in that far-off land, Englishmen might not be tortured to death with impunity. It was a terrible demonstration of crude, primitive justice; and whether or not it was as effective in inculcating a lesson as it was intended to be, it is now impossible to say; but one thing at least is certain, that from that time forward there is no record of any Englishman having ever been received into the Inquisition at San Juan.The party reached the ship unmolested, although they naturally attracted a great deal of attention during their passage through the streets. How it would have been with them during that short march if the inhabitants of the city had been aware of the terrible tragedy which had just been enacted within the walls of the Inquisition can never be known, possibly it might have resulted in a still more terrible tragedy in the streets, with far-reaching results upon the city itself, but Saint Leger believed that he had taken every possible precaution against such an occurrence.As events proved, however, there was one precaution which he had omitted to take; he should have insisted upon the arrest by the alcalde of Don Manuel Rebiera, the acting Commandant, upon that individual’s display of hostility at the termination of their interview with him; and this George had not done. Now, Don Manuel was both a bigoted Catholic and a Government official. He was one of those who held that the Church—and in his case the term included every individual belonging to the Church—could do no wrong; even the atrocities of the Inquisition, which many devout Catholics secretly reprobated, were to him perfectly justifiable, and the institution itself as sacred as the cathedral; and the suspicion aroused within him by George’s question as to the whereabouts of the building—that this little band of autocratic, domineering heretics meditated an invasion of its sacred precincts, possibly with the intention of perpetrating some act of violence therein, and in any case desecrating it by their intrusion—stirred his fanatical religious rancour to boiling point, while the fact that those same heretics held the town—a possession of his Most Catholic Majesty—at their mercy, was not only as great an offence from his patriotic point of view, but he also felt that it inflicted a deep stain upon his honour as a Spanish soldier, which he was resolved to wipe out, if possible.These feelings he had wit enough to understand he must conceal from George and the alcalde, and he contrived to do so pretty successfully; but the effort only caused them to gall and rankle the more intolerably, and when, at the termination of his interview with them, he quitted their presence with a certain scarcely veiled hint of insolence in his manner, he was in the throes of a perfect frenzy of anger and humiliation; in the precise frame of mind, in fact, as that of the man who, forgetting everything but his own grievances, is ready to commit any crime, however atrocious, in order to avenge himself and salve his wounded feelings. Too often, unhappily, reflection does not come until it is too late, and the crime has been perpetrated, and Don Manuel’s first impulse was to muster his soldiers, follow after the Englishmen, and slay them, if possible, before they should reach the Inquisition building. But as he hurried toward the barracks with this fell intention, he realised that what he meditated was impossible; before he could muster his soldiers and put them upon the track, the Englishmen would have reached their goal; and once within the massive walls of the building, they would be safe. But there was no reason, he told himself, why they should not be attacked as they came out—and here his meditations came to a sudden halt. Therewasa very good reason, which was that, even if his meditated attack should prove successful, only a paltry dozen of Englishmen would fall, and their comrades would remain to wreak a terrible retribution, in the course of which he, among others, would have to pay the full penalty. No, that would not do at all; it was not that Don Manuel Rebiera was a coward; very far from it; but with the speed of thought he pictured to himself the happenings that must inevitably follow the perpetration of an act of such base treachery as he meditated; he saw in imagination the execution of the hostages—among whom, he suddenly remembered, were one or two very dear friends of his own; the bombardment of the town, with the concomitant slaughter of women and children as well as men; the exasperation of the citizens at the author of the deed which had brought such a frightful calamity upon them, and his own arrest and summary execution. No; that would not do; he was not in the least afraid to face death in fair fight, but to be arrested by his own countrymen, handed over by them to the hated English, and publicly hanged by the latter from one of the yard-arms of their ship—No; he could not face that ignominy.Then what was to be done—for something he was determined to do? He somehow found his way back to the private room in his quarters, and there, flinging himself into a chair, set himself to think. And gradually from out the chaos of his thoughts there emerged an idea, a plan, a mad, desperate plan that, if successful, would mean the destruction or capture of theNonsuchand every Englishman aboard her, which was what Rebiera wanted; while, if it failed—! But it must not, should not fail; no, he would see to that. So presently he took pen and paper, and proceeded to jot down his plan of campaign, altering its details here and there as he went on, until finally he had evolved a scheme that commended itself to him as eminently satisfactory. Then he proceeded to jot down a number of names of persons whose co-operation it was necessary to secure; and, this done, he called for an orderly, who forthwith proceeded to ride hither and thither about the city, calling at this house and that and leaving instructions that the persons whom he named were to present themselves without fail at the Commandant’s office at a certain hour, namely, four o’clock in the afternoon, which just gave the Commandant nice time to complete his plans before the arrival of the persons whom he had summoned to meet him.And in due time, with very commendable punctuality, those persons turned up and were ushered into the Commandant’s private office. There were some thirty of them in all, and when the whole of them were present Don Manuel proceeded to address them, at first in quick, tense tones, which gradually changed to the fiery, impassioned language and gestures characteristic of an invocation. For a man of his parts he was rather an able orator, moreover he was more profoundly stirred than, probably, he had ever before been in the whole course of his life. It is not to be greatly wondered at, therefore, that before he ended he had wrought his audience up to almost as high a pitch of ferocity and enthusiasm as himself; and when at length he reached his peroration and concluded by making a certain demand, the men who had hitherto sat listening to him sprang to their feet with one accord and vowed, by all they held sacred, that they would obey him and perform his behest, or die in the attempt. And they were all resolute, determined men, too, of the seafaring class, who looked as though they might be safely counted upon to keep their word; wherefore, as soon as their excitement had subsided sufficiently to permit of a return to business, Don Manuel drew toward him a bundle of documents which he had already prepared, and which were, in fact, temporary commissions, and distributed them, one to each man present. Then, selecting a particular memorandum from a number which were lying upon his desk, and referring to it for guidance from time to time, he proceeded to give specified instructions to each person, who, having received them, at once rose and bowed himself out, by which arrangement the party gradually dissolved and left the building one man at a time, thus reducing to a minimum the chances of attracting undue attention.The afternoon was well advanced when at length George Saint Leger and his party returned to theNonsuch, and handed over to Jack Chichester, the surgeon, the three human wrecks whom they had rescued from the clutches of the Inquisition, with special instructions that no pains were to be spared, no trouble to be regarded as too great, nothing that the ship contained too precious for the mitigation of their suffering and, as all hoped, their ultimate restoration to something approaching as nearly as might be to perfect health. It was pitiful to witness the almost incredulous joy and transport manifested by the unfortunates at finding themselves once more in the midst of their fellow-countrymen, and especially of men who spoke in the accents of that beloved Devon whose scented orchards, winding lanes, swelling moors, and lonely tors they had utterly despaired of ever again beholding. But they were sturdy fellows, too, and even broken down as they were, with their strength sapped and their courage almost quelled by long months of protracted agony and privation, they quickly recovered spirit when once they found themselves outside the gloomy precincts of the Inquisition building; and though, despite the utmost precaution and the most tender care in getting them out of the boat and up the ship’s lofty side, the pain they suffered in the process must have been excruciating, they made light of it, declaring, with a laugh that moved those who heard it to tears—so hollow and pathetic was it—that such pain was less than nothing compared with the awful long-drawn-out torments to which they had almost grown accustomed!And if the three rescued Englishmen were glad to find themselves once more, against all hope, delivered from the power of their tormentors, and comparatively safe under the shelter of the glorious Cross of Saint George, the hostages who had most unwillingly remained on board the English ship to insure the good faith of their countrymen—in which, if the truth must be told, they had no very profound belief—were scarcely less so when they saw the little party of adventurers return in safety from their desperate errand; for that return meant that one great danger at least had been safely passed, and surely now they might rely upon the citizens of San Juan to do nothing foolish. So they plucked up heart of grace, and became quite cheery and affable with the Englishmen until Heard, the purser, rather maliciously reminded them that the matter of the indemnity still remained unsettled and that many things might happen before the citizens consented to part with such an enormous sum of money. And the hostages would have felt very much more disconcerted at his remark than they actually were, had they dreamed that the Englishman was speaking truer than he knew.By the time that the excitement attendant upon the safe return of the Captain and his escort had begun to simmer down a little, night had fallen, and those who were not on duty began to think of retiring to rest, for the day had been a long and rather trying one to all hands, and especially so to those who had been of the shore-going party. But George did not forget, nor would he allow anyone else on board to forget, that the ship was in a hostile port, surrounded on all sides by enemies; and that although, for the moment, a truce prevailed, nobody could possibly say how long that truce might last, or at what moment it might be broken. He reminded his compatriots that the harbour of San Juan de Ulua, where they now lay, was the scene of that act of stupendous treachery which it was a part of their business to avenge; he pointed out that it was the very people who now surrounded them who had perpetrated that act of treachery and were therefore quite capable of perpetrating another if they believed that they saw the opportunity to do so successfully, and he drew their attention to the fact that although, thank God, they had a sound ship under them, they were very much fewer in numbers than those who were the victims of the tragedy of a year ago, and were consequently at least as tempting a mark as those others had been; and finally he issued his commands that the same watches should be maintained as though the ship were at sea, and that the utmost vigilance should be observed by the look-outs and especially by the officers, that the ordnance should be kept loaded, that no man should lay aside his arms, even to sleep; and that, lastly, if any craft or boat of any kind were seen to be approaching the ship during the hours of darkness, she was to be first challenged, and then fired upon if she did not immediately reply.The night fell dark and overcast, with a brisk easterly breeze and occasional heavy rain squalls, taxing the vigilance of the look-outs to the utmost, and causing young Saint Leger to frequently quit his cabin to personally assure himself that his instructions were being carried out in their entirety. But nothing in the slightest degree suspicious was observed until shortly after three o’clock in the morning, when Dyer, the pilot, whose watch it then was, suddenly presented himself at the door of George’s cabin with the startling intimation that two of the plate ships, if not three, seemed to have slipped their cables and were getting under way. “There baint a light to be seed aboard any of ’em,” he reported, “and it’s so dark as Tophet, but I be certain sure that two of they ships is settin’ their canvas, and there be another that, to my mind, be adrift.”“But how can that be, when we have the officers of the ships aboard here?” demanded George as he sprang from his cot and followed Dyer out on deck.“Don’t know, I’m sure,” answered Dyer; “but it’s a fact that some of ’em be gettin’ under way.”As the pair emerged from the poop cabin, they were met by Drew, the boatswain, who reported:“There be four of ’em on the move now, Cap’n; and I baint at all sure but where there’s one or two more of ’em makin’ ready for a start, though the light be that bad—”“Mr Dyer,” interrupted George crisply, “let our cable be buoyed, ready for slipping, and call all hands, if you please, to fighting stations. Also, let the sail-trimmers be sent aloft to loose the canvas. We will get under way at once. It is too dark for me to see anything just now, coming directly from the lighted cabin, but I’ll take your word for it that things are as you say. Evidently, there is treachery afoot again, somewhere; and it will never do to allow any of those plate ships to escape. Rather than permit that to happen, I’ll sink them!”Thereupon there ensued on board theNonsucha brief period of intense but almost silent activity, during which the severely strict discipline which Saint Leger had imposed upon his crew amply justified itself, for every man exactly knew his station and the duty which the exigencies of the moment demanded of him, and did it without the need of a single superfluous order. A few cries there were, of course, demanding that this or that rope should be let go, or intimating that such and such a sail was ready for setting, for the darkness was so intense that it was impossible to see exactly everything that was happening even aboard their own ship, nor was the work executed with quite that automatic precision and astonishing speed that is characteristic of the Navy of the present day, yet the work went forward so smoothly and rapidly that within ten minutes of the delivery of George’s first order theNonsuchwas under way and turning to windward in pursuit of the plate ships that were cumbrously attempting to effect their escape from the harbour.Within the next five minutes it became evident that the Spanish sailors were no match for the English, nor the Spanish ships for theNonsuch; for although the former had secured a pretty good start of the latter, they had slipped their cables with only just enough canvas set to give them steerage way and enable them to avoid colliding with other ships, slowly increasing their spread of canvas as they went, whereas theNonsuchhung on to her anchor until practically the whole of her working canvas was set, wherefore no sooner had the ponderous hempen cable gone smoking out through her hawse pipe than she came under command, when her extraordinary speed at once told, and she began to rapidly overhaul the ships of which she was in chase. But it was nervous work threading her way out of that crowded anchorage in the intense darkness, for there were fully fifty sail in the port, apart from the plate ships, and for some unknown reason—but probably in accordance with orders received—not one was showing a light, consequently there were several occasions when a collision was avoided only by the remarkable working qualities of the ship herself and the instantaneous response of the mariners to the orders issued from time to time from the quarter-deck.To avoid collision with a craft lying passively at anchor was, under the circumstances, quite sufficiently difficult, but it was infinitely worse when it came to steering clear of the plate ships beating out of the harbour; and indeed something more than a mere suspicion soon took possession of the minds of the English that a deliberate attempt was being made by the Spaniards to either run them down or disable them, for whenever, in the course of manoeuvring, they drew near a Spanish ship, the latter seemed to alter her course and come blundering headlong at them, when, if a collision had chanced to have occurred, the English ship must of necessity have been the greatest sufferer, because of her inferior size. But here again the nimbleness of theNonsuchand the activity of her crew sufficed to avert disaster, and ship after ship was overtaken and passed in deadly, ominous silence, for it was George’s intention to make no demonstration until he had overtaken and weathered the leading ship, when he was determined to administer such a lesson as should not be readily forgotten.And at length the fateful moment arrived, about half an hour after theNonsuchhad slipped her cable and slid away from her anchorage. She had overtaken and passed every ship but one, and that one was now approaching her, the two ships being on opposite tacks. It was difficult, just then, to determine which ship would weather the other; but as the distance between the two narrowed it presently became apparent that neither would weather the other, and that a collision was inevitable, unless one of the two gave way. George issued certain orders, and then walked forward, climbed the forecastle, that he might see the better, and intently fixed his gaze upon the approaching ship. She was then about a point on the lee bow of theNonsuch, and was steering such a course that, unless one or the other gave way, the stranger must certainly strike the English ship somewhere between her stem and foremast, probably bringing down the latter, most certainly carrying away the bowsprit, and in any case rendering theNonsuchunmanageable. On she came, a blot of deeper blackness upon the black background of the night, and it was clear to George that those on board her were deliberately manoeuvring to strike the English ship. But Saint Leger had already made his plans, and when presently the space between the two craft had narrowed until only a few fathoms separated them, and still there was no sign of the Spanish ship giving way, the young man put a whistle to his lips and blew a shrill blast, whereupon the helm of theNonsuchwas put hard up, and as she bore broad away the whole of her starboard broadside was poured into the approaching ship, within biscuit-toss, and the discharge was instantly followed by a dreadful outcry aboard her, mingled with the sound of rending timbers; and as the two ships drove close past each other it was seen that her foremast had been shot away. Then, to the amazement of all on board the English ship, an order in Spanish was shouted, and the next instant a straggling but heavy musketry fire was opened upon the former from the decks of the latter, in the midst of which George hailed the Spaniard with:“Hola! there. How dare you, señor, quit your anchorage without orders, and attempt to leave the harbour? Return at once, or I swear to you that I will sink you forthwith. If you are not round and heading for the anchorage by the time that I am again alongside you, I will give you another broadside. And—arrest the man, whoever he is, who issued the order to you to open fire upon us, for somebody will have to be punished for that outrage.”Whether or not the Spaniards were able to assimilate the whole of his instructions, George could not tell, for the two ships were fast driving apart; but when at length theNonsuchwas hove about and once more approached the Spaniard’s weather quarter, with guns run out, a figure leaped up on the plate ship’s taffrail, frantically waving a lighted lantern, and as he did so, he hailed:“Do not fire upon us again, señor, for the love of God! We are busily engaged in clearing away the wreck of our foremast, and as soon as that is done and the ship is once more under command, I give you my word, upon the honour of a Spaniard, that we will return to the anchorage.”“The honour of a Spaniard!” retorted George, contemptuously. “How much is that worth, after the specimen of it which you have given me this night? However, you cannot possibly escape, so I will spare you for the present. Have you arrested the man who ordered your musketeers to fire upon us?”“No, señor,” was the answer. “Do you wish him to be put under arrest?”“That was part of my order when I just now hailed you,” retorted George. “But,” he continued, “possibly you did not hear me; wherefore I repeat the order now.”“It shall be done,” replied the stranger. “And, señor,” he continued, “although the evidence against us be strong, I beg you not to think that all Spaniards are liars and faithless. There are some—of whom I am one—who know how to keep faith as well as an Englishman; and I will keep faith with you.”“See that you do so, señor,” retorted George, as the ships again drew apart. “It will be better for you and those with you.”It was at this moment that the weather suddenly cleared, the clouds drove away to leeward, and the stars shone forth with that mellow lustre and brilliancy which renders a starlit night in the tropics so inexpressibly beautiful; in an instant the intense darkness which had hitherto enveloped the scene was rolled away like a curtain, and objects which a moment before had been invisible were now seen with comparatively perfect distinctness, the several ships which comprised the plate fleet—the whole of which were by this time under way—and even the wharves and houses of the town gleaming faintly and ghostly against the darker background of the country beyond and the blue-black of the star-spangled heavens. And now, too, lights suddenly began to appear in the two batteries which guarded the town. A few seconds later, as theNonsuchwas steering to intercept and order back to her anchorage the second of the escaping plate ships, first one and then the other of those same batteries opened fire, and that their ordnance was levelled against the English ship immediately afterward became apparent from the fact that several heavy shot came hurtling immediately overhead, one or two of which passed through theNonsuch’scanvas, but fortunately without inflicting any more serious damage.“Spanish treachery again!” growled George to Basset, who was now standing on the poop beside him. “It would appear that the scoundrels know not what keeping faith means. I felt fully convinced that by securing possession of a dozen of the most important citizens as hostages, we should effectually protect ourselves from all possibility of attack; but it is clear that there is somebody ashore there who cares not what happens to the hostages, if he can only find a chance to strike at us a treacherous blow. Now, then, to deal with this rascal,” indicating the approaching plate ship. “Severe measures are best in such cases as this, and if we deal with this fellow sharply, perhaps the others will take the hint, and return to the anchorage without waiting to be shot at. Starboard your helm, Mr Dyer”—to the pilot; “we will pass under this fellow’s stern, shaving him as closely as may be and pouring a raking broadside into him as we pass; and if that does not make him bear up, we will follow him and give him another. Now, gunners of the starboard battery, stand by your ordnance, and discharge when we are square athwart this big ship’s stern.”The two craft were by this time within hailing distance of each other, but perfect silence was maintained on board both until theNonsuch, by hauling her wind to pass under the plate ship’s stern, exposed practically the whole of her deck to those aboard the bigger ship, when an order suddenly rang out, and the whole of the Spaniard’s bulwark instantly flashed into a hundred points of flame as a party of musketeers aboard her discharged their weapons at close range. At such an exceedingly short distance it was inevitable that a certain number of casualties should occur, and George, with rage in his heart, saw several figures collapse and fall upon the deck of his own ship, Dyer’s among them, while a bullet rang sharply upon his own steel headpiece, causing him to stagger slightly.“The villains!” he muttered savagely; “they shall pay dearly for this. Hold your fire, men; do not discharge your ordnance until we are square athwart his stern. Then let him have it and rake him fore and aft!”Some five seconds later, the starboard broadside of theNonsuch’sordnance, great and small, crashed out, one piece after another in rapid succession; and mingled with the roar of the guns there arose a dreadful chorus of shrieks and yells from the Spaniard’s crowded decks. At the same instant the shore batteries renewed their fire, and so eager, apparently, were the artillerymen to destroy the English ship that they seemed to care little though their own countrymen shared her destruction, for at least half the shot fell on board the ship that had just sustained such a punishing broadside from the English, which still further added to the confusion on board her. And when, a moment later, theNonsuchhove in stays, with the evident intention of repeating the dose with her larboard broadside, the mere threat proved quite enough, for the big craft hurriedly put up her helm and bore away again for the anchorage, with her scuppers streaming blood. The lesson seemed to have sufficed for the rest also; for, one after the other, as they saw theNonsuchheading toward them, they, too, bore up and headed back toward the anchorage, while the artillerymen manning the batteries plumped shot into them indiscriminately, apparently unable to distinguish between friend and foe, so that, as they ran in again, those who had hitherto escaped the broadsides of the Englishmen received a pretty severe castigation from their friends ashore. At length, however, the whole fleet got back to the anchorage, well peppered on the one hand by their own batteries, and, on the other, receiving an occasional reminder from theNonsuch, until they were all once more at anchor, when the Englishmen, as they passed to their own sheltered berth, stood close inshore and poured a couple of broadsides into the nearest battery, so well directed and with such deadly effect that it was effectually silenced, while, as for the other, she soon passed beyond the range of its guns and dropped her anchor as near to the spot which she had previously occupied as could be determined by the elusive light of the stars.

“We die?” reiterated the Grand Inquisitor, now at last fully awakened to the tremendous gravity of the situation. “And pray, señor, at whose behest do we die?”

“At mine, most reverend señor,” answered George, simply. “Have I not yet succeeded in making that clear to you?”

“That means, then, that you intend to murder us?” demanded the Grand Inquisitor, with pale, tremulous lips.

“Señores,” replied George, in a tone of finality, “it matters not to me how you choose to designate your impending execution. Call it murder, if the expression affords you any satisfaction.Icall it an act of stern justice, the richly merited punishment due to a long series of atrociously inhuman crimes committed by you, if not actually with your own hands, at least by your orders. Such crimes as you and your associates have most callously and cold-bloodedly committed under the cloak of religion deserve a far more severe punishment than the mere deprivation of life, and if I were constituted like yourselves I should make that deprivation of life a long, lingering agony, a slow death of exquisite torment, such as you have inflicted upon countless victims; but torture is indescribably repugnant to the mind of an Englishman, therefore I intend to carry out the death-sentence which I have passed upon you, as mercifully as possible, by causing you to be shot—with one exception, that exception being in the case of the Grand Inquisitor, whom I purpose to hang, as an example to others. And I have taken upon myself the terrible task and responsibility of execution, for the simple reason that there is no other who will do so; and justicemustbe satisfied. And now, having said all that there is to be said, I leave you all to prepare for death as best you may.” Whereupon, the young man, with stern, set face, turned away and walked over to Basset, who was still doing what he could to alleviate the sufferings of the latest victim to the Inquisition’s merciless methods of conversion.

“Well, Basset,” he said, indicating the unfortunate individual in the chair, “whom have we here? He looks to me something like an Englishman.”

“So he be,” answered Basset. “He says his name be Job Winter, and that he was one of the crew of Admiral Hawkins’ ship, theMinion. He’ve been in this hell upon earth since last August, and all that time they fiends in human form up there,” indicating the occupants of the dais, “have been trying their hardest to make a good Catholic of him. And this is how they’ve been doing it. Look to mun.” And very gently and tenderly the soldier disclosed certain horrible and blood-curdling injuries very recently inflicted, together with a number of healed and half-healed scars which bore eloquent testimony to a long period of dreadful torment. So frightful was the sight that both the beholders fairly reeled under the horrible qualm of sickness and repulsion induced by it, and if anything further was needed to confirm the young Captain in his full determination to make an example of the Inquisitors, he found it in the revolting spectacle before him.

“My poor dear man,” he said, his voice quivering with compassion, “what you must have suffered! But, cheer up; we are Englishmen and Devon men, like yourself, and one of our purposes in coming here was to deliver you out of the hands of these Spanish devils, and we’ll do it, too. We’ve a good surgeon aboard our ship, and you shall be in his hands this very day, please God. Are there any more of you in this place?”

“He doesn’t know, poor soul,” answered Basset, interposing, “but I do; there be two more Englishmen that we’ve found in the cells; and they’m almost so bad as this man. We found ’em safely locked up; but they’m out now and being taken care of by our men.”

“Can they walk?” demanded George.

“A few yards, perhaps,” surmised Basset, “but not so far as the wharf.”

“Then they must be carried,” decided George. “And these men,” indicating the scarlet-garbed individuals, whose business it evidently was to actually carry out the fiendish commands of the Inquisitors—“shall help to do it. I dare say we can find all the additional help we need somewhere in this building. I will go out and see to it; and, meanwhile, you will remain here and see that none of these persons escape.”

“Ay, ay,” responded Basset, “I’ll take care of that, trust me. I don’t think there’ll be any trouble, after the example I made of that fellow,” pointing to the prostrate figure on the paved floor. “The rascal presumed to dispute my authority when I came in here and told everybody that they were prisoners, and—there a be! No, I don’t think there’ll be any more trouble.”

Whereupon George passed from the terrible chamber with its fearful evidences of the dreadful lengths to which misguided fanaticism will occasionally carry men, even in the cause of religion, and proceeded to busy himself in making all the arrangements necessary for the comfortable conveyance of the three unfortunate victims of Inquisitional cruelty down to the ship.

The thing was done! Righteously, or unrighteously, it was done at last, and the little party of stern, inflexible-visaged Englishmen emerged from the Inquisition building of San Juan de Ulua grouped protectively round the three litters in which lay the quivering, emaciated, anguished bodies of their fellow-countrymen, delivered, against all hope, from a fate a thousand times worse than any ordinary kind of death, while within the gloomy, forbidding walls of the building they left behind them nine corpses as a warning and example that, even in that far-off land, Englishmen might not be tortured to death with impunity. It was a terrible demonstration of crude, primitive justice; and whether or not it was as effective in inculcating a lesson as it was intended to be, it is now impossible to say; but one thing at least is certain, that from that time forward there is no record of any Englishman having ever been received into the Inquisition at San Juan.

The party reached the ship unmolested, although they naturally attracted a great deal of attention during their passage through the streets. How it would have been with them during that short march if the inhabitants of the city had been aware of the terrible tragedy which had just been enacted within the walls of the Inquisition can never be known, possibly it might have resulted in a still more terrible tragedy in the streets, with far-reaching results upon the city itself, but Saint Leger believed that he had taken every possible precaution against such an occurrence.

As events proved, however, there was one precaution which he had omitted to take; he should have insisted upon the arrest by the alcalde of Don Manuel Rebiera, the acting Commandant, upon that individual’s display of hostility at the termination of their interview with him; and this George had not done. Now, Don Manuel was both a bigoted Catholic and a Government official. He was one of those who held that the Church—and in his case the term included every individual belonging to the Church—could do no wrong; even the atrocities of the Inquisition, which many devout Catholics secretly reprobated, were to him perfectly justifiable, and the institution itself as sacred as the cathedral; and the suspicion aroused within him by George’s question as to the whereabouts of the building—that this little band of autocratic, domineering heretics meditated an invasion of its sacred precincts, possibly with the intention of perpetrating some act of violence therein, and in any case desecrating it by their intrusion—stirred his fanatical religious rancour to boiling point, while the fact that those same heretics held the town—a possession of his Most Catholic Majesty—at their mercy, was not only as great an offence from his patriotic point of view, but he also felt that it inflicted a deep stain upon his honour as a Spanish soldier, which he was resolved to wipe out, if possible.

These feelings he had wit enough to understand he must conceal from George and the alcalde, and he contrived to do so pretty successfully; but the effort only caused them to gall and rankle the more intolerably, and when, at the termination of his interview with them, he quitted their presence with a certain scarcely veiled hint of insolence in his manner, he was in the throes of a perfect frenzy of anger and humiliation; in the precise frame of mind, in fact, as that of the man who, forgetting everything but his own grievances, is ready to commit any crime, however atrocious, in order to avenge himself and salve his wounded feelings. Too often, unhappily, reflection does not come until it is too late, and the crime has been perpetrated, and Don Manuel’s first impulse was to muster his soldiers, follow after the Englishmen, and slay them, if possible, before they should reach the Inquisition building. But as he hurried toward the barracks with this fell intention, he realised that what he meditated was impossible; before he could muster his soldiers and put them upon the track, the Englishmen would have reached their goal; and once within the massive walls of the building, they would be safe. But there was no reason, he told himself, why they should not be attacked as they came out—and here his meditations came to a sudden halt. Therewasa very good reason, which was that, even if his meditated attack should prove successful, only a paltry dozen of Englishmen would fall, and their comrades would remain to wreak a terrible retribution, in the course of which he, among others, would have to pay the full penalty. No, that would not do at all; it was not that Don Manuel Rebiera was a coward; very far from it; but with the speed of thought he pictured to himself the happenings that must inevitably follow the perpetration of an act of such base treachery as he meditated; he saw in imagination the execution of the hostages—among whom, he suddenly remembered, were one or two very dear friends of his own; the bombardment of the town, with the concomitant slaughter of women and children as well as men; the exasperation of the citizens at the author of the deed which had brought such a frightful calamity upon them, and his own arrest and summary execution. No; that would not do; he was not in the least afraid to face death in fair fight, but to be arrested by his own countrymen, handed over by them to the hated English, and publicly hanged by the latter from one of the yard-arms of their ship—No; he could not face that ignominy.

Then what was to be done—for something he was determined to do? He somehow found his way back to the private room in his quarters, and there, flinging himself into a chair, set himself to think. And gradually from out the chaos of his thoughts there emerged an idea, a plan, a mad, desperate plan that, if successful, would mean the destruction or capture of theNonsuchand every Englishman aboard her, which was what Rebiera wanted; while, if it failed—! But it must not, should not fail; no, he would see to that. So presently he took pen and paper, and proceeded to jot down his plan of campaign, altering its details here and there as he went on, until finally he had evolved a scheme that commended itself to him as eminently satisfactory. Then he proceeded to jot down a number of names of persons whose co-operation it was necessary to secure; and, this done, he called for an orderly, who forthwith proceeded to ride hither and thither about the city, calling at this house and that and leaving instructions that the persons whom he named were to present themselves without fail at the Commandant’s office at a certain hour, namely, four o’clock in the afternoon, which just gave the Commandant nice time to complete his plans before the arrival of the persons whom he had summoned to meet him.

And in due time, with very commendable punctuality, those persons turned up and were ushered into the Commandant’s private office. There were some thirty of them in all, and when the whole of them were present Don Manuel proceeded to address them, at first in quick, tense tones, which gradually changed to the fiery, impassioned language and gestures characteristic of an invocation. For a man of his parts he was rather an able orator, moreover he was more profoundly stirred than, probably, he had ever before been in the whole course of his life. It is not to be greatly wondered at, therefore, that before he ended he had wrought his audience up to almost as high a pitch of ferocity and enthusiasm as himself; and when at length he reached his peroration and concluded by making a certain demand, the men who had hitherto sat listening to him sprang to their feet with one accord and vowed, by all they held sacred, that they would obey him and perform his behest, or die in the attempt. And they were all resolute, determined men, too, of the seafaring class, who looked as though they might be safely counted upon to keep their word; wherefore, as soon as their excitement had subsided sufficiently to permit of a return to business, Don Manuel drew toward him a bundle of documents which he had already prepared, and which were, in fact, temporary commissions, and distributed them, one to each man present. Then, selecting a particular memorandum from a number which were lying upon his desk, and referring to it for guidance from time to time, he proceeded to give specified instructions to each person, who, having received them, at once rose and bowed himself out, by which arrangement the party gradually dissolved and left the building one man at a time, thus reducing to a minimum the chances of attracting undue attention.

The afternoon was well advanced when at length George Saint Leger and his party returned to theNonsuch, and handed over to Jack Chichester, the surgeon, the three human wrecks whom they had rescued from the clutches of the Inquisition, with special instructions that no pains were to be spared, no trouble to be regarded as too great, nothing that the ship contained too precious for the mitigation of their suffering and, as all hoped, their ultimate restoration to something approaching as nearly as might be to perfect health. It was pitiful to witness the almost incredulous joy and transport manifested by the unfortunates at finding themselves once more in the midst of their fellow-countrymen, and especially of men who spoke in the accents of that beloved Devon whose scented orchards, winding lanes, swelling moors, and lonely tors they had utterly despaired of ever again beholding. But they were sturdy fellows, too, and even broken down as they were, with their strength sapped and their courage almost quelled by long months of protracted agony and privation, they quickly recovered spirit when once they found themselves outside the gloomy precincts of the Inquisition building; and though, despite the utmost precaution and the most tender care in getting them out of the boat and up the ship’s lofty side, the pain they suffered in the process must have been excruciating, they made light of it, declaring, with a laugh that moved those who heard it to tears—so hollow and pathetic was it—that such pain was less than nothing compared with the awful long-drawn-out torments to which they had almost grown accustomed!

And if the three rescued Englishmen were glad to find themselves once more, against all hope, delivered from the power of their tormentors, and comparatively safe under the shelter of the glorious Cross of Saint George, the hostages who had most unwillingly remained on board the English ship to insure the good faith of their countrymen—in which, if the truth must be told, they had no very profound belief—were scarcely less so when they saw the little party of adventurers return in safety from their desperate errand; for that return meant that one great danger at least had been safely passed, and surely now they might rely upon the citizens of San Juan to do nothing foolish. So they plucked up heart of grace, and became quite cheery and affable with the Englishmen until Heard, the purser, rather maliciously reminded them that the matter of the indemnity still remained unsettled and that many things might happen before the citizens consented to part with such an enormous sum of money. And the hostages would have felt very much more disconcerted at his remark than they actually were, had they dreamed that the Englishman was speaking truer than he knew.

By the time that the excitement attendant upon the safe return of the Captain and his escort had begun to simmer down a little, night had fallen, and those who were not on duty began to think of retiring to rest, for the day had been a long and rather trying one to all hands, and especially so to those who had been of the shore-going party. But George did not forget, nor would he allow anyone else on board to forget, that the ship was in a hostile port, surrounded on all sides by enemies; and that although, for the moment, a truce prevailed, nobody could possibly say how long that truce might last, or at what moment it might be broken. He reminded his compatriots that the harbour of San Juan de Ulua, where they now lay, was the scene of that act of stupendous treachery which it was a part of their business to avenge; he pointed out that it was the very people who now surrounded them who had perpetrated that act of treachery and were therefore quite capable of perpetrating another if they believed that they saw the opportunity to do so successfully, and he drew their attention to the fact that although, thank God, they had a sound ship under them, they were very much fewer in numbers than those who were the victims of the tragedy of a year ago, and were consequently at least as tempting a mark as those others had been; and finally he issued his commands that the same watches should be maintained as though the ship were at sea, and that the utmost vigilance should be observed by the look-outs and especially by the officers, that the ordnance should be kept loaded, that no man should lay aside his arms, even to sleep; and that, lastly, if any craft or boat of any kind were seen to be approaching the ship during the hours of darkness, she was to be first challenged, and then fired upon if she did not immediately reply.

The night fell dark and overcast, with a brisk easterly breeze and occasional heavy rain squalls, taxing the vigilance of the look-outs to the utmost, and causing young Saint Leger to frequently quit his cabin to personally assure himself that his instructions were being carried out in their entirety. But nothing in the slightest degree suspicious was observed until shortly after three o’clock in the morning, when Dyer, the pilot, whose watch it then was, suddenly presented himself at the door of George’s cabin with the startling intimation that two of the plate ships, if not three, seemed to have slipped their cables and were getting under way. “There baint a light to be seed aboard any of ’em,” he reported, “and it’s so dark as Tophet, but I be certain sure that two of they ships is settin’ their canvas, and there be another that, to my mind, be adrift.”

“But how can that be, when we have the officers of the ships aboard here?” demanded George as he sprang from his cot and followed Dyer out on deck.

“Don’t know, I’m sure,” answered Dyer; “but it’s a fact that some of ’em be gettin’ under way.”

As the pair emerged from the poop cabin, they were met by Drew, the boatswain, who reported:

“There be four of ’em on the move now, Cap’n; and I baint at all sure but where there’s one or two more of ’em makin’ ready for a start, though the light be that bad—”

“Mr Dyer,” interrupted George crisply, “let our cable be buoyed, ready for slipping, and call all hands, if you please, to fighting stations. Also, let the sail-trimmers be sent aloft to loose the canvas. We will get under way at once. It is too dark for me to see anything just now, coming directly from the lighted cabin, but I’ll take your word for it that things are as you say. Evidently, there is treachery afoot again, somewhere; and it will never do to allow any of those plate ships to escape. Rather than permit that to happen, I’ll sink them!”

Thereupon there ensued on board theNonsucha brief period of intense but almost silent activity, during which the severely strict discipline which Saint Leger had imposed upon his crew amply justified itself, for every man exactly knew his station and the duty which the exigencies of the moment demanded of him, and did it without the need of a single superfluous order. A few cries there were, of course, demanding that this or that rope should be let go, or intimating that such and such a sail was ready for setting, for the darkness was so intense that it was impossible to see exactly everything that was happening even aboard their own ship, nor was the work executed with quite that automatic precision and astonishing speed that is characteristic of the Navy of the present day, yet the work went forward so smoothly and rapidly that within ten minutes of the delivery of George’s first order theNonsuchwas under way and turning to windward in pursuit of the plate ships that were cumbrously attempting to effect their escape from the harbour.

Within the next five minutes it became evident that the Spanish sailors were no match for the English, nor the Spanish ships for theNonsuch; for although the former had secured a pretty good start of the latter, they had slipped their cables with only just enough canvas set to give them steerage way and enable them to avoid colliding with other ships, slowly increasing their spread of canvas as they went, whereas theNonsuchhung on to her anchor until practically the whole of her working canvas was set, wherefore no sooner had the ponderous hempen cable gone smoking out through her hawse pipe than she came under command, when her extraordinary speed at once told, and she began to rapidly overhaul the ships of which she was in chase. But it was nervous work threading her way out of that crowded anchorage in the intense darkness, for there were fully fifty sail in the port, apart from the plate ships, and for some unknown reason—but probably in accordance with orders received—not one was showing a light, consequently there were several occasions when a collision was avoided only by the remarkable working qualities of the ship herself and the instantaneous response of the mariners to the orders issued from time to time from the quarter-deck.

To avoid collision with a craft lying passively at anchor was, under the circumstances, quite sufficiently difficult, but it was infinitely worse when it came to steering clear of the plate ships beating out of the harbour; and indeed something more than a mere suspicion soon took possession of the minds of the English that a deliberate attempt was being made by the Spaniards to either run them down or disable them, for whenever, in the course of manoeuvring, they drew near a Spanish ship, the latter seemed to alter her course and come blundering headlong at them, when, if a collision had chanced to have occurred, the English ship must of necessity have been the greatest sufferer, because of her inferior size. But here again the nimbleness of theNonsuchand the activity of her crew sufficed to avert disaster, and ship after ship was overtaken and passed in deadly, ominous silence, for it was George’s intention to make no demonstration until he had overtaken and weathered the leading ship, when he was determined to administer such a lesson as should not be readily forgotten.

And at length the fateful moment arrived, about half an hour after theNonsuchhad slipped her cable and slid away from her anchorage. She had overtaken and passed every ship but one, and that one was now approaching her, the two ships being on opposite tacks. It was difficult, just then, to determine which ship would weather the other; but as the distance between the two narrowed it presently became apparent that neither would weather the other, and that a collision was inevitable, unless one of the two gave way. George issued certain orders, and then walked forward, climbed the forecastle, that he might see the better, and intently fixed his gaze upon the approaching ship. She was then about a point on the lee bow of theNonsuch, and was steering such a course that, unless one or the other gave way, the stranger must certainly strike the English ship somewhere between her stem and foremast, probably bringing down the latter, most certainly carrying away the bowsprit, and in any case rendering theNonsuchunmanageable. On she came, a blot of deeper blackness upon the black background of the night, and it was clear to George that those on board her were deliberately manoeuvring to strike the English ship. But Saint Leger had already made his plans, and when presently the space between the two craft had narrowed until only a few fathoms separated them, and still there was no sign of the Spanish ship giving way, the young man put a whistle to his lips and blew a shrill blast, whereupon the helm of theNonsuchwas put hard up, and as she bore broad away the whole of her starboard broadside was poured into the approaching ship, within biscuit-toss, and the discharge was instantly followed by a dreadful outcry aboard her, mingled with the sound of rending timbers; and as the two ships drove close past each other it was seen that her foremast had been shot away. Then, to the amazement of all on board the English ship, an order in Spanish was shouted, and the next instant a straggling but heavy musketry fire was opened upon the former from the decks of the latter, in the midst of which George hailed the Spaniard with:

“Hola! there. How dare you, señor, quit your anchorage without orders, and attempt to leave the harbour? Return at once, or I swear to you that I will sink you forthwith. If you are not round and heading for the anchorage by the time that I am again alongside you, I will give you another broadside. And—arrest the man, whoever he is, who issued the order to you to open fire upon us, for somebody will have to be punished for that outrage.”

Whether or not the Spaniards were able to assimilate the whole of his instructions, George could not tell, for the two ships were fast driving apart; but when at length theNonsuchwas hove about and once more approached the Spaniard’s weather quarter, with guns run out, a figure leaped up on the plate ship’s taffrail, frantically waving a lighted lantern, and as he did so, he hailed:

“Do not fire upon us again, señor, for the love of God! We are busily engaged in clearing away the wreck of our foremast, and as soon as that is done and the ship is once more under command, I give you my word, upon the honour of a Spaniard, that we will return to the anchorage.”

“The honour of a Spaniard!” retorted George, contemptuously. “How much is that worth, after the specimen of it which you have given me this night? However, you cannot possibly escape, so I will spare you for the present. Have you arrested the man who ordered your musketeers to fire upon us?”

“No, señor,” was the answer. “Do you wish him to be put under arrest?”

“That was part of my order when I just now hailed you,” retorted George. “But,” he continued, “possibly you did not hear me; wherefore I repeat the order now.”

“It shall be done,” replied the stranger. “And, señor,” he continued, “although the evidence against us be strong, I beg you not to think that all Spaniards are liars and faithless. There are some—of whom I am one—who know how to keep faith as well as an Englishman; and I will keep faith with you.”

“See that you do so, señor,” retorted George, as the ships again drew apart. “It will be better for you and those with you.”

It was at this moment that the weather suddenly cleared, the clouds drove away to leeward, and the stars shone forth with that mellow lustre and brilliancy which renders a starlit night in the tropics so inexpressibly beautiful; in an instant the intense darkness which had hitherto enveloped the scene was rolled away like a curtain, and objects which a moment before had been invisible were now seen with comparatively perfect distinctness, the several ships which comprised the plate fleet—the whole of which were by this time under way—and even the wharves and houses of the town gleaming faintly and ghostly against the darker background of the country beyond and the blue-black of the star-spangled heavens. And now, too, lights suddenly began to appear in the two batteries which guarded the town. A few seconds later, as theNonsuchwas steering to intercept and order back to her anchorage the second of the escaping plate ships, first one and then the other of those same batteries opened fire, and that their ordnance was levelled against the English ship immediately afterward became apparent from the fact that several heavy shot came hurtling immediately overhead, one or two of which passed through theNonsuch’scanvas, but fortunately without inflicting any more serious damage.

“Spanish treachery again!” growled George to Basset, who was now standing on the poop beside him. “It would appear that the scoundrels know not what keeping faith means. I felt fully convinced that by securing possession of a dozen of the most important citizens as hostages, we should effectually protect ourselves from all possibility of attack; but it is clear that there is somebody ashore there who cares not what happens to the hostages, if he can only find a chance to strike at us a treacherous blow. Now, then, to deal with this rascal,” indicating the approaching plate ship. “Severe measures are best in such cases as this, and if we deal with this fellow sharply, perhaps the others will take the hint, and return to the anchorage without waiting to be shot at. Starboard your helm, Mr Dyer”—to the pilot; “we will pass under this fellow’s stern, shaving him as closely as may be and pouring a raking broadside into him as we pass; and if that does not make him bear up, we will follow him and give him another. Now, gunners of the starboard battery, stand by your ordnance, and discharge when we are square athwart this big ship’s stern.”

The two craft were by this time within hailing distance of each other, but perfect silence was maintained on board both until theNonsuch, by hauling her wind to pass under the plate ship’s stern, exposed practically the whole of her deck to those aboard the bigger ship, when an order suddenly rang out, and the whole of the Spaniard’s bulwark instantly flashed into a hundred points of flame as a party of musketeers aboard her discharged their weapons at close range. At such an exceedingly short distance it was inevitable that a certain number of casualties should occur, and George, with rage in his heart, saw several figures collapse and fall upon the deck of his own ship, Dyer’s among them, while a bullet rang sharply upon his own steel headpiece, causing him to stagger slightly.

“The villains!” he muttered savagely; “they shall pay dearly for this. Hold your fire, men; do not discharge your ordnance until we are square athwart his stern. Then let him have it and rake him fore and aft!”

Some five seconds later, the starboard broadside of theNonsuch’sordnance, great and small, crashed out, one piece after another in rapid succession; and mingled with the roar of the guns there arose a dreadful chorus of shrieks and yells from the Spaniard’s crowded decks. At the same instant the shore batteries renewed their fire, and so eager, apparently, were the artillerymen to destroy the English ship that they seemed to care little though their own countrymen shared her destruction, for at least half the shot fell on board the ship that had just sustained such a punishing broadside from the English, which still further added to the confusion on board her. And when, a moment later, theNonsuchhove in stays, with the evident intention of repeating the dose with her larboard broadside, the mere threat proved quite enough, for the big craft hurriedly put up her helm and bore away again for the anchorage, with her scuppers streaming blood. The lesson seemed to have sufficed for the rest also; for, one after the other, as they saw theNonsuchheading toward them, they, too, bore up and headed back toward the anchorage, while the artillerymen manning the batteries plumped shot into them indiscriminately, apparently unable to distinguish between friend and foe, so that, as they ran in again, those who had hitherto escaped the broadsides of the Englishmen received a pretty severe castigation from their friends ashore. At length, however, the whole fleet got back to the anchorage, well peppered on the one hand by their own batteries, and, on the other, receiving an occasional reminder from theNonsuch, until they were all once more at anchor, when the Englishmen, as they passed to their own sheltered berth, stood close inshore and poured a couple of broadsides into the nearest battery, so well directed and with such deadly effect that it was effectually silenced, while, as for the other, she soon passed beyond the range of its guns and dropped her anchor as near to the spot which she had previously occupied as could be determined by the elusive light of the stars.

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