nce, his soldierly carriage, and the tilt of his bearded
chin, that belied his garb. He bore upon his person the stamp of
intrepidity and assurance.

Both halted, each staring at the other, a faint smile on the lips of
the stranger--who, in the fading light, might have been of any age from
thirty to fifty--a puzzled frown upon the brow of the friar. Then the
man swept off his broad-brimmed hat.

"God save your paternity," was his greeting.

"God save you, my son," replied Frey Miguel, still pondering him. "I
seem to know you. Do I?"

The stranger laughed. "Though all the world forget, your paternity
should remember me."

And then Frey Miguel sucked in his breath sharply. "My God!" he cried,
and set a hand upon the fellow's shoulder, looking deeply into those
bold, grey eyes. "What make you here?"

"I am a pastry-cook."

"A pastry-cook? You?"

"One must live, and it is a more honest trade than most. I was in
Valladolid, when I heard that your paternity was the Vicar of the
Convent here, and so for the sake of old times--of happier times--I
bethought me that I might claim your paternity's support." He spoke with
a careless arrogance, half-tinged with mockery.

"Assuredly..." began the priest, and then he checked. "Where is your
shop?"

"Just down the street. Will your paternity honour me?"

Frey Miguel bowed, and together they departed.

For three days thereafter the convent saw the friar only in the
celebration of the Mass. But on the morning of the fourth, he went
straight from the sacristy to the parlour, and, despite the early hour,
desired to see her Excellency.

"Lady," he told her, "I have great news; news that will rejoice your
heart." She looked at him, and saw the feverish glitter in his sunken
eyes, the hectic flush on his prominent cheek-bones. "Don Sebastian
lives. I have seen him."

A moment she stared at him as if she did not understand. Then she paled
until her face became as white as the nun's coil upon her brow; her
breath came in a faint moan, she stiffened, and swayed upon her feet,
and caught at the back of a prie-dieu to steady and save herself from
falling. He saw that he had blundered by his abruptness, that he had
failed to gauge the full depth of her feelings for the Hidden Prince,
and for a moment feared that she would swoon under the shock of the news
he had so recklessly delivered.

"What do you say? Oh, what do you say?" she moaned, her eyes
half-closed.

He repeated th