Fair Margaret | Page 9

and bought an old palace from the
Moors. Would you not like to see Granada, Señora?" he asked, turning
to Margaret as though to change the subject. "There is a wonderful
building there called the Alhambra; it overlooks my house."
"My daughter is never likely to see it," broke in Castell; "I do not
purpose that she should visit Spain."
"Ah! you do not purpose; but who knows? God and His saints alone,"
and again he crossed himself, then fell to describing the beauties of
Granada.
He was a fine and ready talker, and his voice was very pleasant, so
Margaret listened attentively enough, watching his face, and forgetting
to eat, while her father and Peter watched them both. At length the meal
came to an end, and when the serving-men had cleared away the dishes,
and they were alone, Castell said:
"Now, kinsman Peter, tell me your story."
So Peter told him, in few words, yet omitting nothing.
"I find no blame in you," said the merchant when he had done, "nor do
I see how you could have acted otherwise than you did. It is Margaret
whom I blame, for I only gave her leave to walk with you and Betty by
the river, and bade her beware of crowds."

"Yes, father, the fault is mine, and for it I pray your pardon," said
Margaret, so meekly that her father could not find the heart to scold her
as he had meant to do.
"You should ask Peter's pardon," he muttered, "seeing that he is like to
be laid by the heels in a dungeon over this business, yes, and put upon
his trial for causing the man's death. Remember, he was in the service
of de Ayala, with whom our liege wishes to stand well, and de Ayala, it
seems, is very angry."
Now Margaret grew frightened, for the thought that harm might come
to Peter cut her heart. The colour left her cheek, and once again her
eyes swam with tears.
"Oh! say not so," she exclaimed. "Peter, will you not fly at once?"
"By no means," he answered decidedly. "Did I not say it to the king,
and is not this foreign lord bond for me?"
"What can be done?" she went on; then, as a thought struck her, turned
to d'Aguilar, and, clasping her slender hands, looked pleadingly into his
face and asked: "Señor, you who are so powerful, and the friend of
great people, will you not help us?"
"Am I not here to do so, Señora? Although I think that a man who can
call half London to his back, as I saw your cousin do, needs little help
from me. But listen, my country has two ambassadors at this Court--de
Ayala, whom he has offended, and Doctor de Puebla, the friend of the
king; and, strangely enough, de Puebla does not love de Ayala. Yet he
does love money, which perhaps will be forthcoming. Now, if a charge
is to be laid over this brawl, it will probably be done, not by the
churchman, de Ayala, but through de Puebla, who knows your laws and
Court, and--do you understand me, Señor Castell?"
"Yes," answered the merchant; "but how am I to get at de Puebla? If I
were to offer him money, he would only ask more."
"I see that you know his Excellency," remarked d'Aguilar drily. "You

are right, no money should be offered; a present must be made after the
pardon is delivered--not before. Oh! de Puebla knows that John
Castell's word is as good in London as it is among the Jews and infidels
of Granada and the merchants of Seville, at both of which places I have
heard it spoken."
At this speech Castell's eyes flickered, but he only answered:
"May be; but how shall I approach him, Señor?"
"If you will permit me, that is my task. Now, to what amount will you
go to save our friend here from inconvenience? Fifty gold angels?"
"It is too much," said Castell; "a knave like that is not worth ten. Indeed,
he was the assailant, and nothing should be paid at all."
"Ah! Señor, the merchant is coming out in you; also the dangerous man
who thinks that right should rule the world, not kings--I mean might.
The knave is worth nothing, but de Puebla's word in Henry's ear is
worth much."
"Fifty angels be it then," said Castell, "and I thank you, Señor, for your
good offices. Will you take the money now?"
"By no means; not till I bring the debt discharged. Señor, I will come
again and let you know how matters stand. Farewell, fair maiden; may
the saints intercede for that dead rogue who brought me into your
company, and that of your father and your