Again I must confess to you, reader, that being the son of a Spanish gentleman, it was my nature to despise one such as he; yet I must declare to you, as I cherish an honourable name, that whenever this sinister foreigner threw me a compliment, which he did now and again, I was for all the world like a dog that has received a bone. I have never been able to account for this behaviour. There can be no doubt about my father’s pedigree, and any Asturian will inform you that the family of my mother is beyond cavil. Yet in all our subsequent passages with this formidable islander, who in some ways was little better than one of the wicked, as there was too good a reason to know, in whatever path he walked the Count of Nullepart and myself were happy to attend him. After our meal, as we lay under the trees in the wood, I conversed with the worthy Count of Nullepart upon this subject. Sir Richard Pendragon had already fallen asleep. It was his boast that he could command this solace at any moment of the day or night. “It is the power of the mind, my dear Don Miguel,” said the Count of Nullepart. “This ingenious and subtle adventurer has a power of mind that a god might envy.” “But, worshipful Count of Nullepart,” I protested, “his manners are ungentle; he insults a noble country; he traduces an ancient name; he takes life without remorse and with a most practised hand. He reveres not the truth, and he is over-familiar with the All-Wise Creator. Wherefore, Sir Count, if his mind is as you say, doth he not walk abroad with decency?” “My dear Don Miguel,” said the Count of Nullepart, “it is because of his natural force. Does the wind walk abroad with decency? It can be soft and courteous, yet more often it is rude and violent. But whatever its humour, all of us, Spanish hidalgo or French rapscallion, must obey its whims. It is the same with this Englishman. He knows no law save his natural puissance; and you and I, my dear, have not the power to do other than respect it.” Upon this the Count of Nullepart drew his cloak about him and went to sleep. I was not satisfied in the least as to the ground on which I went, but being too fatigued to confer further with my thoughts I was fain also to do the same. In the course of a long week’s journey we had quitted the dominion of the King of Castile, and the perils of the road were diminished sensibly. Thenceforward we took again to the public ways, and were glad indeed of the additional comfort and security.