Dangerfield gave up his cards at once, and bowed excuses to the lady. As always, Beauvallet left her without a word to say. Truth to tell she was glad to have him in Dangerfield's stead, but why could he not ask her permission? He sat down in Dangerfield's chair; Dangerfield, with his hand on the door, paused to say, smiling: "Doña Dominica hath all the luck, sir, as you shall find." "And you none, Diccon. I may believe it. But I will back myself against her. Away with you." He flicked a card out from his hand, and smiled across the table at Dominica. "To the death, lady!" Doña Dominica played to his lead in silence. He won the encounter at length. She bit her lip, but took it with a good grace. "Yes, señor, you win." She watched him playing with the cards, and folded her hands. "I shall not pit my skill against yours." Sir Nicholas put down the pack. "Then let us talk a little," he said. "It likes me much better. How does Don Manuel find himself?" A shadow crossed her face. "I think him very sick, señor. I have to thank you for sending your surgeon to visit him." "No need of that." "My father tells me," Dominica said, "that you have sworn to set us ashore in Spain. Pray, how may you accomplish that?" "Very simply," Sir Nicholas replied. He held his pomander to his nose, and over it his eyes twinkled at her. "Well, señor, and how?" She was impatient. "I've no desire to witness another fight at sea." "Nor shall you, fondling. What, do you suppose that Nick Beauvallet would expose you to the risks Narvaez courted? Shame on you!" "Señor, are you so mad as to suppose that you can sail into a Spanish port without a shot being fired?" "By no means, child. If I did so foolish a thing I might expect a veritable hailstorm of shot about my head." He threw one leg over the other, and continued to sniff at his pomander. "I see, señor, you have no mind to confide in me," said Dominica stiffly. His shoulders shook. "Do I not answer your questions? You would know more? Then ask me prettily, O my Lady Disdain!" Her eyes fell; she tried a change of front to see what might come of it. "You have the right to flout me, señor. I am aware that I stand beholden to you. Yet I think you might use me kindlier." The pomander fell. "Good lack!" said Beauvallet, startled. "What's this?" He uncrossed his legs and stretched a hand to her across the table. "Let there be no such talk betwixt us two, child. Ye stand in no way beholden to me. Say that I do what I do to please myself, and cry a truce!" The smile crept into his eyes. "Do I flout you? Now I had thought that was your part." "I am helpless in your hands, señor," said Dominica mournfully. "If it pleases you to make a mock of me you may do so without hindrance." This failed somewhat of its purpose. "Child, in a little I shall be constrained to set you on my knee and kiss you," said Beauvallet. "I am helpless," she repeated, and would not look up.