Don Manuel stirred restlessly. "I must set my house in order, I leave my daughter alone in the world. There is my sister. But the child had traffickings with Lutherans, and I misdoubt me----" He broke off, sighing. Beauvallet came to his feet. "Señor, give me ear a minute!" Don Manuel looked up at him, and saw him serious for once. "I attend, señor." "When I approach my chosen goal, señor, I march straight. That you may have heard of me. Let it go. I make you privy now to a new goal I have sworn to reach, a fair prize. The day will come, Don Manuel, when I shall take your daughter to wife." Don Manuel's eyelids fluttered a moment. "Do you tell me, señor, that you love my daughter?" he asked sternly. "Madly, señor, I make no doubt you would say." Don Manuel looked more sternly still. "And she? No, it is not possible!" "Why, as to that, señor, I do not know. I am not over-apt with maids. She will love me one day." "Señor, be plain with me. What is this riddle you propound?" "None, señor. Here is only the plain truth. I might bear Dominica away to England, and thus constrain her----" "You would not!" Don Manuel cried out sharply. "Nay, I constrain no maid against her will, be assured. But you will allow it to be clearly within my power." He paused, and his eyes questioned. Don Manuel watched the swing of the golden pomander from long fingers, looked higher, and met the imperative gaze. "We are in your hands I know full well," he said evenly. Beauvallet nodded. "But that easy course is not the one I will take, señor. Nor am I one to enact the part of ravisher, of betrayer. I will take you to Spain, and there leave you. But, señor--and mark me well! for what I swear I will do that I shall certainly do, though the sun die and the moon fall, and the earth be wholly overset!--I shall come later into Spain, and seek out your daughter, and ride away with her on my saddle-bow!" His voice seemed to fill the room, vibrating with some leaping passion. A moment he looked down at Don Manuel with a glint in his eyes, and his beard jutting outwards with his lifted chin. Then the fire left him as suddenly as it had sprung up, and he laughed softly, and the glitter went out of his eyes. "Judge you by this, señor, if I do truly love her as you would have her loved!" There was silence. Don Manuel turned his head away on the pillow and brushed the sheet with one restless hand. "Señor," he said at last, "if you were not an enemy and a heretic, I would choose to give my daughter to just such a one as you." He smiled faintly at the quick surprise in Beauvallet's face. "Ay, señor, but you are both these things, and it is impossible. Impossible!" "Señor, a word I do not know. I have warned you. Take what precaution you will, but whether you are quick or dead, I shall have your daughter, in spite of anything you may do."