That same year I married an Englishwoman, your mother's second cousin, and loved her and lived happily with her, and gave her all her heart could wish.

But after Margaret's birth, three-and-twenty years gone by, she never had her health, and eight years ago she died.
You remember her, since she brought you here when you were a stout lad, and made me promise afterwards that I would always be your friend, for except your father, Sir Peter, none other of your well-born and ancient family were left.

So when Sir Peter--against my counsel, staking his all upon that usurping rogue Richard, who had promised to advance him, and meanwhile took his money--was killed at Bosworth, leaving you landless, penniless, and out of favour, I offered you a home, and you, being a wise man, put off your mail and put on woollen and became a merchant's partner, though your share of profit was but small.

Now, again you have changed staff for steel," and he glanced at the Scotchman's sword that still lay upon a side table, "and Margaret has loosed that rock of which I spoke to her." "What is the rock, Sir ?" "That Spaniard whom she brought home and found so fine." "What of the Spaniard ?" "Wait a while and I will tell you." And, taking a lamp, he left the room, returning presently with a letter which was written in cipher, and translated upon another sheet in John Castell's own hand.
"This," he said, "is from my partner and connection, Juan Bernaldez, a Marano, who lives at Seville, where Ferdinand and Isabella have their court.

Among other matters he writes this: 'I warn all brethren in England to be careful.