ant
men, as the martyrs and confessors of whom they read in their breviaries
had done in times past.

The cook-almoner on the other hand proved to be a shrewd little man,
with much ready conversation, a great humorist at most times, yet not
without a due regard for his own safety. Him the little Princess knew
well, having often stolen off through the gardens and down the long
"Mall" to taste his confectioned cakes, made in the Austrian manner
after a receipt which dated from the time of the founder of blessed
memory, Henry the Fourth of that name, and often partaken of by Catholic
sovereigns when they drove out to the lofty grange and Hermitage of the
Segovian monks of El Parral.

The fourth and principal friar proved upon acquaintance to be a man of
another mould. He was a tall square-shouldered man, now a little bent
with age, but with the fires of loyalty burning deep within eyes of the
clearest and most translucent blue. His hair was now quickly frosting
over with premature infirmity, for not only was his constitution feeble
but he was just recovering from a dangerous attack of pneumonia.
Altogether Brother Teodoro was a northern-looking rather than a Spanish
man. It was not till afterwards that Rollo discovered that he belonged
to the ancient race of the Basques, and that in his day he had fought as
a bold soldier in the _partidas_, which rose in the rear of Napoleon's
marshals when he sent his legions across the Pyrenees. Indeed, he had
even followed _El Gran' Lor_ to Toulouse when the battered remnants of
that great army skulked back home again beaten by the iron discipline of
England and the gad-fly persistence of the Spanish _guerrilleros_.

It was with Brother Teodoro then, as with a man already walking in the
shadow of death, that Rollo in quick low-spoken sentences discussed the
possibilities of the Hermitage as a place of defence. It was clear that
no ordinary military precautions and preparations would serve them now.
The four brethren were willing, if need were, to lay down their lives
for the young Queen. But saving the pistols and the limited ammunition
which Rollo had brought with him in his belt, and the bell-mouthed
blunderbusses aforesaid, rusted and useless, there was not a single
weapon of offence within the Hermitage of San Ildefonso of greater
weight than the kitchen poker.

The Basque friar laid his hand on his brow and leaned against the wall
for a minute or two in silent meditation.

"I