e people? Not that I would think anything
but love and respect for the Prince and his wonderful sister, her
Highness! But, senor, I feel the same as do the other dwellers of
Seguro."

"And how is that?"

"I feel that strange things have gone on in that castle. Even a great
gentleman like the Duke says so. Surely if educated noblemen put faith
in such things, we simple folk are not far wrong to believe what we are
taught. But still..."

"Yes, there you are, my good girl. You have a 'but still'--and that
means a doubt. The doubts of the world have been the foundation stones
of modern freedom--it was the doubts of the old farmers and traders
back in America which threw off the yoke of the old kingdom, and made a
great free country. If you have a doubt you may be saved. As for the
Duke--the only god he pays allegiance to is himself--and he's not been
so sure of that divinity during these last iconoclastic ten days."

"I don't understand, Senor Warren?" she replied, in bewilderment.

"Of course you don't, or you wouldn't be kow-towing to this royalty
stuff, and you would hand a bottle to that Don Roughhouse or whatever
his name is, right on his classic brow, with a classic smash. You ought
to see how an American girl would treat one of these big bullies! Well,
what about my danger? It never worries me when I know where and when
and how to expect it. Whatever you tell will be absolutely our secret."

Dolores looked at Rusty, who was struggling with a cigarette--he was
more accustomed to Pittsburgh stogies, but his motto in life was based
on the famous advice concerning Roman imitation!

"How about the Senor Moor, senor? May you trust him?" she asked
nervously.

"Rusty is no Moor--he's an Afro-Methodist, my girl. He can't understand
Spanish anyway, even though he's the best little guesser this side of
the Ohio River. But I'd trust Rusty with my life. Go ahead with the
danger signals."

She heard a footfall on the balcony above them.

"Let me pretend to read your palm, senor. I know we are being watched."

"All right, read away--my palm will show you that after this trip
through Spain my clothesline needs washing. But, what's the fortune of
the castle?"

It was the old Jarvis, now--blithesome, devil-may-worry, shrewd, and
recovered completely, through the change of scene and a certain new
interest in life which the reader may have already divined.

The girl led him away from beneath the balcony, to the side of t