See there--there, by yon crossing, the carriage still waits.

The man was wrapped in a mantle.

I know not whom he may be; but--" "Heavens!" cried Fonseca, as they were now close before the door of the house at which Calderon's carriage still stood; "I hear a noise, a shriek, within." Scarce had he spoken when the door opened.

Voices were heard in loud altercation; presently the form of the Jew was thrown on the pavement, and dashing aside another man, who seemed striving to detain him, Calderon appeared,--his drawn sword in his right hand, his left arm clasped round Beatriz.
Fonseca darted forward.
"My lover! my betrothed!" exclaimed the voice of the novice: "thou are come to save us--to save thy Beatriz!" "Yes; and to chastise the betrayer!" exclaimed Fonseca, in a voice of thunder.

"Leave thy victim, villain! Defend thyself!" He made a desperate lunge at Calderon while he spoke.