ved
mysterious instructions as to how they must answer any questions
concerning me. But, whatever those instructions might be, I was sure they
would be loyally carried out; for the Cherub is a man servants would obey
through torture until death, if these days were as the old.

At half-past nine Ropes was ready to spin me back into Seville. We arrived
earlier than need be; and having made an appointment to meet at a quiet
hotel, where Ropes would await me from half-past eleven till half-past
twelve, I decided to walk past Carmona's house and reconnoitre.

I knew where to find it, in the Calle de las Duenas; but if I had hoped
for a tell-tale glimpse within, as in a London or Parisian mansion, I was
disappointed. Once a Moorish palace, it showed a closed, secretive front
to the narrow street. But I knew, for I had read, that within there were
six courtyards, ninety marble pillars, half a dozen fountains, a garden of
orange and magnolia trees, with myrtle hedges clipped to represent the
ducal arms; that there were vast treasures of statuary, pictures by
Velasquez, Murillo, and Alonso Cano; gold-inlaid plate armour; tapestry
from the Netherlands not to be surpassed at the Royal Palace at Madrid.

I knew that these splendours would loom large in the eyes of Lady
Vale-Avon, and might count for something even with Monica, who confessed
to a love of all things beautiful. I thought of the famous Carmona jewels,
which would belong to the wife of the Duke, while she lived, as they had
belonged to generations of Duchesses. Above all, I thought of the
incomparable Blanca Laguna pearl and its glistening maids of honour,
which, by this time perhaps, had been shown to Monica. There were few
girls in Spain, or in the world, I remembered hearing my mother say, who
could resist that pearl as a bride. And now it was offered to Monica, a
penniless girl of eighteen, whose beauty formed her sole dowry.

There, behind the cold reserve of those white walls with the shut,
brass-studded doors and barred windows, she was being feted by the Duke,
dining on gold plate, in a tapestried room fragrant with orange flowers. I
could see the pictures. I could see the look in Carmona's eyes as they
turned to her, saying, "all this is yours if you will have it." And
Carmona's eyes were handsome eyes; I had to admit that, in justice.

Would she hold true to me--true to a man with no palaces, no lands, no
priceless pearls, and only half as many hundreds a y