"Nay, have done with laughing! To what a pass has this senseless love of danger led you? Lad, heed what I say! If ye go into Spain ye will never come out again. The Inquisition will have you in its damnable toils, and there is no power under the sun can save you then!" Sir Nicholas snapped finger and thumb in the air. "A fig for the Inquisition! Gerard, my careful Gerard, I give you _Reck Not_!" CHAPTER VII To my Lady Beauvallet, discovered in the Long Gallery, Gerard exposed the folly of his brother. He sat him down heavily in a chair covered with gilded leather, and spoke bitterly and long. My lady listened in amazement and distress, but Nicholas wandered down the gallery inspecting such new pieces as my lord had lately acquired, and gave no ear to the discourse. "If you have more influence than I have, Kate, I pray you use it now," Gerard said. "I grant you he lives but to plague me, but I should desire him to continue to live." Nicholas raised his head from a close scrutiny of a piece from one of the cabinets. "Whence had you this Majolica ware, Gerard?" he inquired. "But Nicholas cannot mean it!" my lady said hopefully. "Prevail upon him to admit as much, madam, and call me your debtor. Prevail on him only to pay heed to sager counsel!" She turned her head, and saw Nicholas at the other end of the gallery, intent upon Majolica ware. "Good my brother! Nicholas! Will you not tell me what you have in mind?" Nicholas put back the piece, and came sauntering towards her. "Pottery, Kate, but Gerard denies me an answer. What's your will?" "God sain you, Nick, can you not be serious even now?" my lord said sharply. Nicholas stood before them, swinging gently on his toes, with his hands tucked into his belt. A smile lilted at the corners of his mouth. "Here's heat! I've said my say, Gerard, and mighty ill you liked it. What would you have now?" "Nick, put by this mad humour, and give me a sober answer! Tell me ye did but jest." "Soberly I tell you, brother, I did not jest." My lord's hand clenched on the arm of his chair, and he spoke with some force. "It's to throw away your life for a whim. Are you tired of it? Does the thought of death please you so well? Or are ye besotted with success and now think even to succeed in this?" Nicholas nodded. "Oh, but Nicholas, this is not like you!" fluttered my lady. "It's very like him, madam!" Gerard retorted. "Any wild scheme is meat for Nick! I might have known what would come of it! But to think to snatch a wench out of Spain, to bring her home, a foreigner and an enemy, to be my lady one day passes all bounds!" "Does it so indeed?" Nicholas interposed swiftly. "You're at fault, Gerard. I do but follow the example of the first baron, who also brought home a foreigner and an enemy to be his bride." My lord glared; my lady stirred restlessly, and hurried into speech. "Of what like is she, Nicholas?" "Tush!" said my lord awfully.