n to build castles wherein to entertain ladies.
Sea-castles for the English robber dogs to batter with shot, and
land-castles to hold down the Hollander frontier, are much more to his
liking!"

At this point the Duke of Err created a diversion by turning in his
tracks at the sight of the dark sleeping-chamber, through the open
window of which came the light sap and clatter of the sea on the beach
far below.

"My supper--my supper!" he muttered; "I want to go to the supper-room!"

The Duchess was not a lady of lengthy patience, and domestic manners
were simple in those days. She merely gave the ex-diplomatist a sound
box on the ear, and bade him get into bed at once.

"It takes all his family just like that before the age of fifty," she
said; "I am a woman much to be pitied, with such a babe on my hands.
Good-night, Don Raphael; you must build me that chateau to comfort me as
soon as the wars are over----"

"When God wills, and the purse fills!" said the Lord of Collioure,
bowing to the ground.

A little farther along the corridor they came to the chambers of the
Countess Livia and the niece of the Jesuit doctor. The Countess, with
her eyes on her companion, gave Raphael her fingers to kiss, but
Valentine la Nina swept past both with the slightest bow.

"No man can serve two masters," said the Countess, smiling after her
with meaning; "you must give up your shepherdess!"

"What do you mean?" Raphael demanded, in a low tone.

"My brother Paul will tell you to-morrow, when he comes back from
Perpignan. He, too, was on the hillside to-day--near to the valley----"

She paused long enough to give him time to ask the question.

"What valley?" said Raphael, in complete apparent forgetfulness.

"The Valley of the Consolation! An excellent name!" answered the
Countess Livia, with a low laugh of malice.

She turned and went within. She found Valentine la Nina standing by the
open window looking out upon the sea. Her large, amber-coloured eyes
were now black and mysterious. She did not show the least trace of
emotion. She was as one walking in a dream, or perhaps, rather, like one
upheld by a will not her own.

The Countess Livia looked at the girl awhile, and then, with a vexed
stamp of her foot, she pulled Valentine round, so that the light of the
lamp fell on her face.

"Oh!" she cried, "was there ever a woman like you? As the Duchess said,
you care for nothing. You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and