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HOW PETER MET THE SPANIARD
JOHN CASTELL
PETER GATHERS VIOLETS
LOVERS DEAR
CASTELL'S SECRET
FAREWELL
NEWS FROM SPAIN
D'AGUILAR SPEAKS
THE SNARE
THE CHASE
THE MEETING ON THE SEA
FATHER HENRIQUES
THE ADVENTURE OF THE INN
INEZ AND HER GARDEN
PETER PLAYS A PART
BETTY SHOWS HER TEETH
THE PLOT
THE HOLY HERMANDAD
BETTY PAYS HER DEBTS
ISABELLA OF SPAIN
BETTY STATES HER CASE
THE DOOM OF JOHN CASTELL
FATHER HENRIQUES AND THE BAKER'S OVEN
THE FALCON STOOPS
HOW THE _MARGARET_ WON OUT TO SEA
ENVOI

 

But what if Margaret should prove the angel with the flaming sword who 

forbade him entrance to his paradise? He trembled at the thought. Well, 

if so, so it must be; he was not the man to force her fancy, or call her 

father to his aid. He would do his best to win her, and if he failed, 

why then he would bless her, and let her go. 

 

Peter could lie abed no longer, but rose and dressed himself, although 

the dawn was not fully come. By his open window he said his prayers, 

thanking God for mercies past, and praying that He would bless him in 

his great emprise. Presently the sun rose, and there came a great 

longing on him to be alone in the countryside, he who was country-born 

and hated towns, with only the sky and the birds and the trees 

for company. 

 

But here in London was no country, wherever he went he would meet men; 

moreover, he remembered that it might be best that just now he should 

not wander through the streets unguarded, lest he should find Spaniards 

watching to take him unawares. Well, there was the garden; he would go 

thither, and walk a while. So he descended the broad oak stairs, and, 

unbolting a door, entered this garden, which, though not too well kept, 

was large for London, covering an acre of ground perhaps, surrounded by 

a high wall, and having walks, and at the end of it a group of ancient 

elms, beneath which was a seat hidden from the house. In summer this was 

Margaret's favourite bower, for she too loved Nature and the land, and 

all the things it bore. Indeed, this garden was her joy, and the flowers 

that grew there were for the most part of her own planting--primroses, 

snowdrops, violets, and, in the shadow of the trees, long 

hartstongue ferns. 

 

For a while Peter walked up and down the central path, and, as it 

chanced, Margaret, who also had risen early and not slept too well, 

looking through her window curtains, saw him wandering there, and 

wondered what he did at this hour; also, why he was dressed in the 

clothes he wore on Sundays and holidays. Perhaps, she thought, his 

weekday garments had been torn or muddied in last night's fray. Then she 

fell to thinking how bravely he had borne him in that fray. She saw it 

all again; the great red-headed rascal tossed up and whirled to the 

earth by his strong arms; saw Peter face that gleaming steel with 

nothing but a staff; saw the straight blows fall, and the fellow go 

reeling to the earth, slain with a single stroke. 


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