"Take this, my child," he said significantly, as he held the trinket out to her. "This little bit of metal hath already done more service to our Lord the King, to our country, and to our faith than a whole army of spies." "What is it, dear?" she asked. "It is a little talisman," he replied, "that will turn any lock and open any secret drawer by whomsoever lock and drawer have been manufactured. It was made for me by the finest metal-cutter of Toledo--one in fact whose skill was so paramount that we had reluctantly to ... to put him out of harm’s way. He was getting dangerous. This pass-key was his masterpiece. I have tested it on the most perfect specimens of the locksmith’s art both in Toledo and in Florence. It hath never failed me yet. Take it, my child, and guard it carefully. An I mistake not, you will find use for it in your new home." Before she could protest he had thrown the ribbon over her head, and she--mechanically but with unaccountable reluctance withal--slipped the trinket into the bosom of her gown. "Remember, my dear," concluded de Vargas, "that the day after your marriage I must return to Brussels. But if you see or hear anything that may concern the welfare of our Sovereign Lord the King, or of his government, you must come to me at once--do not hesitate--invent a pretext--come away in secret--do anything rather than delay. And remember also that anything you may tell me, I will treat in absolute confidence. Your name will never appear in connection with any denunciation ... I mean," he interrupted himself hastily, "with any service which you may render to the State. Will you remember that also, my child?" "I will remember," she replied. It seemed almost as if she were under the potent spell of some wizard. She spoke and acted just as her father directed--and yet he looked so evil at this moment, hypocrisy and lust were so apparent in his jaundiced face, that even Lenora felt a sudden pang of doubt and of fear--doubt as to the purity of her own motives and fear at the terrible companionship which would henceforth exist between herself and her father’s friends, men who--like him--were bent on the destruction of a nation and were actuated by blind hatred to oppress an entire people. De Vargas--vaguely guessing what went on in the girl’s mind--made an effort to regain his former bland manner: he strove by gentleness and soft words to lull her suspicions. After all, he was her father and she--a motherless child--had no one now in the world to whom she could cling, on whom she could pour out that wealth of love and tenderness which filled her young heart to overflowing. So now--very soon--she was kneeling close beside him, her head resting against his bosom--the dove nestling near the hawk; and the tears which would not come all the while that her soul was consumed with bitterness, flowed beneficently at last and eased her overburdened heart.