“Perinat’s misfortunes have turned his brain,” whispered the Andalusian.
Dominica stepped forward a pace. “Why, what are you saying, Don Maxia? That is not Beauvallet!” Her voice was perhaps unnaturally calm, “I should know, surely. This man is certainly not he.”
There was a movement behind her; Don Diego’s hand gripped her wrist. “Ah, jade, I have it at last!” he said fiercely. “This is El Beauvallet, this flaunting Chevalier, and he is your lover!”
There was a buzz of excited whispering. Someone moved to the door, as though to guard it. Beauvallet’s voice cut through the subdued babel. “God’s Life, I am flattered!” he said, and even in the midst of her sick terror, Dominica could exult in the cool amusement in his tone, and worship the iron nerve that could keep him careless and mocking still. “Do you take me for El Beauvallet, señor?”
“Jesting dog of a pirate, are you not he? Ah, dare you look me in the face and say you are not he?”
“What need? This is moon-madness, señor, or you are cup-shotten. If I were Beauvallet, what in God’s name should I hope to make here?”
“I believe him!” Don Diego was at Perinat’s side. “There is more to this Chevalier de Guise than we know. I will tell you what you hope to make, pirate! You hoped to snatch my cousin away. I see it all now, but you shall go to perdition on my sword’s point first!” He dragged his sword from the scabbard as he spoke, and sprang forward.
There was a hiss of steel, the glint of candlelight on a blue, shimmering blade. Beauvallet’s leaping sword was out, a true piece from the hand of Sahagom of Toledo. Don Diego’s thrusting point was caught on the swift blade and beaten aside. Beauvallet sprang back to the wall, and stood facing his assailant. Dominica saw the gleam of white teeth as he smiled.
“Well, gentlemen, well? I await you. Is there any other will come to Don Diego’s assistance? If I am El Beauvallet it will take a-many and a-many!”
“Stand back, stand back, this is for me!” Perinat cried, and thrust Don Diego aside. “Measure your sword with mine yet once again, pirate! Do you remember how the deck was slippery beneath your feet? Ha, do you remember, dog?” He snatched at his dagger, and bore down on Beauvallet, a weapon in either hand.
“Hold off your madman,” said Sir Nicholas. “Perchance I may do him a mischief. So-so, señor! Gently, then, and keep your guard!” He saw Don Diego advancing on him from the side, and shifted to face him, holding Perinat at check.
Noveli, master of the house, was shocked out of his stupefaction, and rushed forward, pulling out his sword.
“What, more?” said Sir Nicholas. “Oh, brave! I am well-matched indeed.”
“Hold, hold!” Noveli cried, and beat up the swords. “What, are you crazy, Perinat? Put up, young señor! put up, I say! This, in my house! Shame! Shame on you both!”
“Seize on him!” Perinat gasped. “Seize on him, I tell you! Will you let him go, you fools? It is El Beauvallet!”
Beauvallet stood leaning lightly on his rapier, and laughing as though he found the situation irresistibly amusing. “Peace, Señor Greybeard, I am here still!”
“He laughs at you! See how he mocks!” Perinat cried, almost beside himself. “Put my words to the test! Call the guard! Call in the guard!”
Diego put up his sword. “Yes, let the guard be called in,” he said. “We will sift this to the bottom. Ho, there! Call in the guard!”
Noveli turned quickly. “Do you give orders in my house, Don Diego?”
But many voices took up the cry. “Yes, let the guard be summoned! Let the matter be looked to, Noveli! If Perinat is mistaken the Chevalier will pardon it. If he speaks sooth—nay, have in the guard!”
Noveli looked uncertainly at Beauvallet, torn between his feelings as a host, and his suspicions. Behind Beauvallet was a phalanx of men watching for the least sign of an attempt to escape. And Beauvallet held his sword between his hands, and laughed.
“I should send for the guard, señor,” he said.
“Chevalier, you will pardon such seeming rudeness,” Noveli said, seriously put out.
“With all my heart, señor,” Beauvallet answered lightly. His glance flickered to Dominica’s face of despair; his hand went to his beard, and for an instant a finger lay across his lips. He saw her eyes fall, and knew that she had understood.
Someone had sped forth to call the guard. Sir Nicholas turned his head, and seemed amused to see so many gathered between him and the door. “God’s my life, you hold this Beauvallet a desperate man, do you not, señors?” he said.
Perinat put up his sword. His first wild passion had died down; he spoke calmly now, but with great bitterness. “Desperate indeed must you be to dare come into Spain,” he said, “You have made a jest of me, and of others, Beauvallet, but he who laughs last may laugh the longest.”
Beauvallet’s eyes glinted. “The last laugh, señor, is certainly going to be mine,” he said. “You say that I am Beauvallet, but there is one yonder who says I am not, and it seems she should know.”
“She does know!” Don Diego said, ignoring a warning look from his mother. “You cannot fool us thus, dog!”
“Enough of that!” Again Noveli intervened. “This is for other interrogation than yours, Don Diego. Hold your peace, I command you! If we do you an injustice, Chevalier, I hope you will be kind enough only to laugh at us.”
“You may be sure of it, señor,” said Sir Nicholas. “We shall all laugh.” Again his glance flitted to Dominica’s face. “Let no one be ill at ease. This affair will have a happy ending, don’t doubt it.” There came a stir by the door, and the clank of spurred heels. “Aha, the guard! Now by my faith you count
