in Spain!"

"I stand for peace," said the Professor, interrupting unexpectedly, for
even after many years filled with learned labours and crowned with
success, the feudal reverence was strong on him; "I am a man of peace,
but there are many who would not let Mistress Claire go without a
defender. Even I----"

The feudal superior laughed unpleasantly.

"Oh, yes," he cried, "you would defend her with a syllogism, draw your
major and minor premises upon the insulter, and vanquish the lady's foes
before a full meeting of the Sorbonne!"

"Indeed," returned the Professor shortly, "we have had some meetings of
that body lately which came near to losing kings their thrones!"

The keen, dark features of the Lord of Collioure took on a graver
expression.

"Where I come from," he said, "we live too near to the rack and the
water-torture to air our opinions concerning such things. Our Philip has
taught us to guard our thoughts for times when we find ourselves some
distance outside the frontiers of Spain."

He cast a significant look around, on the dusking purplish sea, on the
great mass of Estelle and the Canigou, standing out black against a
saffron sky. The glance conveyed to those who knew Raphael Llorient,
that they dwelt at present too far within the dangerous bounds of Spain,
and that if they had once to do with the Demon of the South, it would be
worse for them than many Holy Leagues and Bearnais war-levyings.

He rose to take his leave, kissing the Senora, and palpably hesitating
between Claire's cheek and her hand, till something in the girl's manner
decided him on the latter.

"_Au revoir_, sweet cousin newly found!" he cried, lifting his black
velvet bonnet to his head with grace; "I hope you will like me better
the next time you see me. I warn you I shall come with credentials!"

"I sha'n't--I won't--I never could!" Claire was affirming to herself
behind her shut lips, even as he was speaking.

"I hate that man!" she burst out, as soon as the lithe slender figure in
the black velvet suit was sufficiently far out of ear-shot down the
mountain side.

"You mean," said the Professor soothingly, "that you are a little afraid
of Don Raphael. I do not wonder. Perhaps I did wrong to bring you here.
But I never thought to see him cross this doorstep. He has not done so
much for years and years. For how long, mother?"

"For sixteen years--not since his father's death," said the old woman;
"he was angry that the fa