The accidentally penetrating glance of her eyes while speaking these words, so confounded Sebastian, that it made the blood mantle on his cheeks, she laughed again. “Come, this is the colouring of penitence, so I must not chide you any more. Never let me hear a presumptuous word breathed, consent to be docile as a lamb, and I may condescend to be so much interested in you as to ask you, who you are? whence you come! and whither you go?” During this discourse Donna Gonsalva had entered a path leading off the terrace, and they were now advancing through an olive plantation which effectually secured them from observation. Sebastian was encouraged by her arch freedom: “Whence I come, and whither I go, fair Gonsalva,” he said, “matters not; what I am, you shall know. I am a soldier: one that hitherto had no other passion than glory; one that never yet bowed either heart or knee to beauty. If you see honour and honesty in my countenance, believe me when I swear that neither my rank nor fortune are unworthy of the count Vimiosa’s heiress: but ask me no further; imperious circumstances render me mysterious. Suffer me to see you, suffer me to attempt winning _your_ heart, and losing _my own_, and then,”--“O ye saints!” interrupted Gonsalva, “what excess of gallantry! So--you have not _lost your_ heart yet! but wait most obsequiously for the surrender of mine! I protest count, or duke, or whatever you are, you have a very taking way of making love! This cloven foot of arbitrary insolence is for ever shewing itself: I have a shrewd notion you are one of our young King’s attendants, and have caught his character?” “And what is the King’s character?” asked Sebastian smiling. “An excellent one for a King, doubtless,” replied Gonsalva. “He thinks of nothing but rule and dominion, breathes nothing but war and devastation, and would fancy himself _un-kinged_ if he were to yield an _iota_ to a woman. All the court ladies love him mortally, and hate him mortally: they are charmed by his accomplishments, but piqued at his coldness. I have heard some of them say so repeatedly. Give him the world to reign over, and he would not care if there was not a woman in it.” Sebastian did not reply: he was momentarily lost in rumination upon the injustice done to his actions by mistaking their motives. It was evident that Gonsalva had learned his character from report, and spoke therefore the prevailing opinion. After a pause he said, “I have been told that Don Sebastian young as he is, cannot be justly taxed with a thirst for mere power; he is _said_ to be actuated by zeal for our holy faith.” “_You know_ it perhaps?” rejoined Gonsalva playfully. “Come, come, confess that you are one of his court. I hear his majesty is at Crato with Don Antonio, and of course some of his lords must be in attendance on him.”