"Even the best government in the world is very bad," Antonio retorted. "Still, with all its faults, the English government is indeed the best in Europe. There is much more intrigue and corruption in their public life than they care to recognize; but one can get justice in their courts, and, except for Catholics, there is almost complete liberty. If we Portuguese had a government one half so good--" A thin, short, bald, bent old man with a long white beard and madly bright eyes leaped out of the shadow and startled Antonio by shouting: "Till he comes back there'll be no good government in Portugal. They'll go on being thieves and cowards. Yes, thieves. The French were thieves and bullies. The English were thieves and bullies too. Dom Miguel was the worst thief and coward of them all. As for the Queen--" Antonio staunched the flow of eloquence before treason could burst forth. "Whom do you speak of?" he demanded quickly. "You say 'Till he comes back.' Who?" While the old man stood glaring at the monk with trembling lips, Senhor Jorge bent over and whispered in Antonio's ear: "Have patience with him, your Worship. He is a Sebastianista--the only Sebastianista for leagues around. On all other points he is saner than I am. He is a good man. I beg your Worship to indulge him." Antonio did more than indulge the hoary monomaniac. He strained forward, all ears. That there should be a Sebastianista left alive in Portugal amazed him. From the lips of a very old Jesuit he had once heard of some Sebastianistas in the forests of Brazil, and the Abbot had mentioned a Sebastianista whom he had seen, as a child, in the Açores. But a Sebastianista was the last curiosity Antonio had expected to meet at Senhor Jorge's serão. "Tell us all about it," he asked. "Ah, your Excellency," moaned the old man, "I am a poor blacksmith and no scholar, and I cannot use fine words." "Don't some people believe," asked Antonio, egging him on, "that King Sebastião was killed by the Moors at the battle of al-Kasr al-Kebir? Don't they say his body rests in the church of the Jeronymos at Belem?" "Lies, all lies!" cried the Sebastianista. "Why were we beaten at Alcacer-Kibir by those hounds of infidels? Because they were braver or stronger? No. It was because we had sinned and the just God punished us. But I tell your Excellency that not one hair of the King's head fell to the ground. He departed unhurt from the battle. The tomb in the Jeronymos is emptier than this barrel." Unfortunately the barrel which the Sebastianista kicked with the iron tip of his wooden shoe gave back a blunt sound which proved that it was full. The girls began to titter; but the old man raved on, unabashed.