h to sit in Parliament and make speeches against reform
and the corn laws, than the political confidant of a Queen of Spain.

Then in a moment it flashed through Rollo's mind that this hearty
Anglo-Iberian could be none other than Mendizabal himself, the Prime
Minister of Spain, the scourge of monks and monasteries, the promised
regenerator of the finances of Spain. Another thought crossed his mind
also. He had actually not so very long ago practically accepted a
commission to kill this man if he should chance to cross his path.

Yet the remembrance did not dim the brightness of the young man's smile
as he took the other's hand.

"Ten to one he will talk to me about the weather," said Rollo to
himself, "to me who ought at this moment to be inserting a twelve-inch
Manchegan knife between his ribs."

And it fell out even as he had anticipated.

"You have been favoured with fine weather for your many adventures,"
said the Prime Minister of the Queen-Regent; "it is almost like an
English June, clear, but with a touch of cold in the mornings and after
sunset."

Rollo modestly supplied the appropriate conversational counter.

"Your name strikes me as in some way familiar," said Mendizabal; "was
not your father Alistair Blair of Blair Castle, a client of mine when I
was a banker in London and operating on the Stock Exchange?"

"He was, sir," quoth candid Rollo, "not greatly to his advantage--or
mine!"

The Premier coloured a little but did not alter his friendly tone.

"Well, perhaps not," he said; "I myself lost every penny I possessed in
the world at the same time. Our Spanish stocks were not so favourable an
investment as they have become since we obtained recognition and a
guarantee from England. But when I have been turned out of my present
occupation, I wish you would permit me to look into your affairs. Your
father's old vouchers should be worth something now. You have not, I
hope, had to sell the old place of your ancestors?"

"No," said Rollo, carelessly; "an ancient retainer of the family lives
in the castle with his wife. There is a dovecote in the yard, so they
eat the pigeons which eat the farmers' crops, who in turn forget to pay
their rents. Thus the ball rolls. And indeed the years have been so bad
of late that I have not asked them!"

"You prefer a life of adventure abroad?" asked the Premier, who had not
ceased to look at Rollo with the most earnest attention.

Rollo shrugged his shoulders slig