d if I did but tell you
one-tenth of the malignity which they displayed towards us, you would
not wonder that I sometimes feel inclined to wonder if my memories of
that most unhappy time are not dreams rather than realities. But I know
well that there is nothing unreal about them, for I bear on my body
certain marks which came there from the rack and the pincers, and there
are moments when I seem to endure my agony over again, and the sweat
drops from my brow as I think of it.

We were led into the City of Mexico through the gate of St. Catherine,
and were thence marched forward to the Placa del Marquese, close by the
market-place. There we were soon surrounded by a throng of folks, who
seemed not unkindly disposed towards us. Some, indeed, brought us food
from their houses, and others drink; one man handed Pharaoh Nanjulian a
coat, a noble-looking lady, closely wrapped in her mantilla, gave me
money, hurrying away ere I could refuse the gift. I suppose we looked so
woe-begone and vagabondish in our rags and tatters, that the hearts of
these people melted towards us. Nevertheless it was plain to see that we
were prisoners, and that the monk had no notion of putting us in the way
of getting a ship.

Now, as we stood there in the Placa, closely guarded by the Indians, the
monk having disappeared for the moment, who should come up to us but
that polite gentleman, Captain Manuel Nunez, arrayed in very brave
fashion and smiling his cruel smile as usual. He pushed his way through
the throng, folded his arms, and stood smiling upon us.

"So, Master Salkeld," he said, "you have fallen into the tiger's den
after all. Certainly what was born to be burned will never be drowned. I
looked to see you again, Senor."

"We shall possibly meet yet once again," said I. "And it may be where
you and I are on level terms, Captain Nunez. If that time should ever
come, ask God to have mercy upon you, for rest assured that I shall
have none."

"Brave words, Senor, brave words! I wish it were possible that you might
have the chance to make them good. But that I am afraid you never will
have. You are safely caged."

Then he began to abuse us to the people, bidding them look upon us for
English dogs, Lutherans, enemies of God, sweepings of the English sink
of iniquity, for whom neither rack, thumb-screw, nor stake was
sufficient reward. Me he denounced to the people as a runaway criminal,
describing me in such terms as made my blood boil wi