When his guards came to escort him out to the court he found that his room gave on to a stone corridor, or cloister, with tall open arches overlooking a paved courtyard. The barracks seemed to enclose this court in a square, and as far as Beauvallet could see the corridor ran right round, with doors opening off it upon the inner side. A quick glance up and down as soon as he came out of his room discovered a spiral stairway to the left, set in the width of the wall where the corridor turned at right-angles to run along the south side of the court.
The guards directed Beauvallet away from this stair, and went with him down the long corridor to the further corner, and round on to the north side. Sir Nicholas judged the length of the corridor to be as near ninety or a hundred feet as made no odds. On the north side was a large stairway, evidently the principle stair in the building, coming up from the arched gateway to the soldiers’ quarters.
They went down it, and Sir Nicholas found himself in the open courtyard, with the sun beating down upon him. To the north an arch led to the street. There were sentries on guard there. To one side of this arch was the stairway down which he had come; to the other was a closed door.
They paced slowly round the court. The ground floor owned just such another corridor as was found on the floor above. There was another storey, Sir Nicholas ascertained, but the corridor was enclosed here, and had windows set, perhaps, eight feet apart all round the square, each with its little semicircular balcony, so typical of the Spanish house. Above was the flat roof and the chimney-stacks.
Sir Nicholas continued his promenade between the two guards, and chatted amiably with them, as his custom was. They had eyed him in round-eyed wonder at first, and had been suspicious of him, seeing under his gay exterior a very dreadful pirate, but those feelings had not lasted long. It was the opinion of the guards that the pleasant gentleman was being wrongfully imprisoned. He never gave the least sign of a wish to escape, was merry in his talk, and, in their eyes, was too much the gentleman to be an English sea-robber. They were quite willing to talk to him, and saw no harm in his questions. He displayed a casual interest in the Guards of Castile, and was surprised to hear how many of them were gathered in this place. However, it was no wonder, he supposed, and looked round him appreciatively. “I dare swear you might house an hundred more in a place this size.”
“Why, señor, if it comes to the pinch, more than that,” one of the soldiers told him, “There are rooms up aloft”—he nodded towards the second storey—“that stand as bare as my hand.”
The other man was inclined to cavil at this. “Not many more,” he said. “There are the stables, and there have to be rooms set aside for stores. The place is not so big as would seem, señor. Why, the armoury alone, over yonder, takes up a great space, and no men housed there, and you have the guardroom as well upon this level.”
“But you might surely house an hundred upon one side of the building alone,” objected Sir Nicholas. “Four sides—nay, I forget: the gateway takes away from one side. Three sides, then, all fit to house an hundred men.”
“Nay, nay, there are the Governor’s quarters to consider,” said the guard.
“Ah, of course!” said Sir Nicholas blandly. “I had forgot that he lived here.” He looked rueful. “I give him joy of it. For my part, I find it a dreary place.”
“Well, señor, you are unfortunate,” he was told. “The Governor does well enough, with a very pretty garden to walk in and a score of fine rooms, I warrant you.”
Sir Nicholas began to talk of something else. The disposition of the Governor’s quarters and the whereabouts of his garden was all he wanted to know now, and he would go his own way to work about that. He complained of the scorching sun, and brought his walk to an end. When Don Cristobal came to visit him later in the day, and inquired whether he had taken his exercise, Sir Nicholas thanked him, but believed that for the future he must confine his walks to the corridor.
“I find it rather too sunny, señor. Heyday! I would M. de Lauvinière’s messenger might bestir himself a little.” He observed Don Cristobal’s troubled look, and smiled. “Nay, do not look so worried, señor. I must be content with the corridor, and this grim incarceration cannot last for many weeks.”
“Why, Chevalier, I should be loth—certainly the sun beats down very hotly. I do not think there could be any objection to your walking in my garden for a space every day. I will arrange for it.”
“But this is too kind, señor! Indeed, I shall take no hurt in the corridor. I should not like to trespass into your garden,” Beauvallet said.
“No trespass, señor. Consider it agreed upon. I am held responsible for your well-being, and I am assured his Majesty is anxious to make this unfortunate time as pleasant for you as maybe. Is there aught else I may do for you?”
Beauvallet seemed to consider. He drew some coins from his pocket, and looked at them with a grimace. “Lay that fellow of mine by the heels, señor, and I shall be much your debtor. But I believe I have enough to buy me some few
