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to have speech with one Captain Morgan if he will have the goodness. I am a messenger, Señor—not a spy, as these—these gentlemen suggest.”

“What is your message?” Henry’s voice had become weary.

The messenger took reassurance from his changed tone.

“I come from one man very rich, Señor. You have his wife.”

“I have his wife?”

“She was taken in the city, Señor.”

“Her name?”

“She is the Doña Ysobel Espinoza, Valdez y los Gabilanes, Sefor. The simple people of the city have called her La Santa Roja.”

Henry Morgan regarded him for a long time. “Yes, I have her,” he said finally. “She is in a cell. What does her husband wish?”

“He offers ransom, Señor. He has reason to wish his wife with him again.”

“What ransom does he offer?”

“What would Your Excellency suggest?”

“Twenty thousand pieces of eight,” Henry said quickly.

The messenger was staggered. “Twenty thous— viente mil—” He translated fully to comprehend the enormity of the amount. “I perceive that Your Excellency also wants the woman.”

Henry Morgan looked at the body of Cœur de Gris. “No,” he said; “I want the money.”

Now the messenger was relieved. He had been