ests and rummaging
in lockers for a while without speaking. Then he spoke slowly and
deliberately.

"It strikes me that when I was an officer of the bodyguard, in the
service of the late Fernando the Seventh, my right royal namesake (and
in some sort predecessor), there was another room used for the private
stores and pieces of the officers. If I mistake not it was entered by
that door to the right, but the key appears to be wanting!"

He added the last clause, as he watched the frantic efforts of Rollo,
who had immediately thrown himself upon the panels, while the Senor was
in the act of rolling out his long-drawn Castilian elegances of
utterance.

"Hither, Cardono," cried Rollo, "open me this door! Quick, Sergeant!"

"Have a care," said the Duke; "there is powder inside!"

But Rollo, now keen on the scent of weapons of defence, would not admit
a moment's delay, and the Sergeant, inserting his curiously crooked
blade, opened that door as easily as he had done the French window.

Munoz stepped forward with some small show of eagerness and glanced
within.

"Yes," he said, "the officers' arms are there, and a liberal allowance
of powder."

"They are mostly sporting rifles," said Rollo, looking them over, "but
there is certainly plenty of powder and ball."

"And what kills ibex and bouquetin on the sierras," drawled Munoz, "will
surely do as much for a mountain gipsy if, as you said just now, the
range is likely to be a short one!"

Rollo began somewhat to change his opinion about the husband of the
Queen. At first he had seemed both dandy and coward, a combination which
Rollo held in the utmost contempt. But when Rollo had once seen him
handle a gun, he began to have more respect for his recent Excellency
the Duke of Rianzares.

"Can you tell us, from your military experience," Rollo asked, "which is
the most easily vulnerable part of this palace."

"It is easily vulnerable in every part," answered Munoz, carelessly
snapping the lock of a rifle again and again.

"Nay, but be good enough to listen, sir," cried Rollo, with some heat.
"There are women and children here. You do not know the gipsies. You do
not know by whom they are led. You do not know the oaths of death and
torture they have sworn----"

"By whom are they led?" said Munoz, still playing carelessly with the
rifle. "I thought such fellows were mere savages from the hills, and
might be slaughtered like sheep."

"Perhaps--at any rate they are