“You are right,” she said, eagerly to Padilh, who stood with something like a blush on his soldierly features at the impulsive action. “Save him from himself, from his temptations, for he has a virtue mated with every vice he practices, and ready to assume its place when the bad is uprooted. I know,” she added, with an impetuous accent which betrayed her Spanish blood, and was singularly impressive in her timid manner of speaking, “he is a professed gambler, yet I have seen him clothe and feed a company of beggars with the lavish generosity of a prince; I know he has repeatedly endeavored to rescind our contract of marriage, but how should this bind his love, since we were infants when it was drawn in our joint name; and I have no reason, surely, to complain that he has employed harsh means to accomplish his end, when I shut my eyes to the growth of his aversion. No, Sir Pedro, the fault has been mine in tempting him on; no one can say how different his life might have been, but for the incumbrance I would not consent to his putting away—and so let me suffer, not him. Save him, I earnestly beseech you, from himself, and if need be,” she added, dropping her voice, and becoming as suddenly pallid as before flushed, “save him from an encounter with my father.” “That I will,” returned the Don, soothingly, “if interposition of my words or body can. And one of these days, Doña Viola, we will talk these matters over calmly, and discuss what is best to be done.” “The poor thing is crazed,” he said an hour after to his countess, “to love this Hilo! It was not easy to bring my mouth to call the scamp ‘cavalier;’ but her innocent distress overcame the reluctance. When this feverish excitement, which forbids all close questioning, subsides, it will be well to learn more, if she knows more of her betrothed. And if I set out before that can be done—” “What, do you really go to this war!” exclaimed our heroine, with the admirable versatility of the sex, “when you have resigned yourself to the gratification of a particular request not at all to your liking at first. “_Dear_, Sir Pedro, don’t you think some better way may be found of accomplishing our purpose? For instance, let some trusty person find out this young man and carry him a letter from you, as from an uncle solicitous of doing him a benefit. Or, perhaps, Señor Inique might be moved from his design by your calm representations. Only don’t go!” she urged, with a tremulous lip. To this outbreak Don Pedro de Padilh, with the tranquillity of one who remembers a story he is anxious to tell and overlooks the last question, rejoined, “Did you ever hear, Hermosa, the history of the wonderful cat that lived in Biscay when I was of no great size myself? There is one of the tribe on the battlement yonder, marked as that intelligent animal must have been, and put the story in my head.” “Pshaw!” said the countess, half inclined to laugh, with tears in her eyes.