"Do you think I would let my love weigh against treachery to the cause of my country that is more to me than life itself? Am I so poor a thing as that? If you wish to give me pain you are causing it. I love you; I know, as you know. I was not ashamed of it; even if I now feel shame that I loved one who could deal Spain this blow. But I shall live it down—I will. But you and I must not meet again." Her firmness began to give out then, and breaking slightly, she said in a quicker tone of agitation, "Let me go now. Nay, I will go." "You are as hard as steel, Sarita, but before you break both our lives in this wild, impulsive way, you must have time to think. Remember what I have told you, how all that has occurred to-night has long been planned, and that it would have occurred just the same if I had not saved the King. Indeed, it was actually being done while Quesada still believed the attempt on the King had been successful." "There is no proof of this," she interposed. "That is the first ray of hope you have given me. If I prove it, will you recall the wild words you have spoken to-night? Give our love at least this one chance, Sarita," I pleaded. "You cannot prove it," she said wavering. "When I have proved it, I will put that question again. And now as to to-night. You cannot go out into the streets in the midst of uproar, and no power on God’s earth shall make me let you do it. Stay here to-night, promise to see me to-morrow—I will take no refusal; and I have some claim on you, if for nothing else, for the warning I carried to-night to the Calle Valencia. Promise that, and I will see Madame Chansette and relieve her anxiety. She herself is leaving Madrid, broken down by all this trouble, and when we meet to-morrow, you can make your decision. You will do this?" At first she would not promise, but my determination prevailed, and she agreed to stay at the hotel until the morning; but would not promise to see me then. I accepted the compromise, however, and having hurriedly explained the matter to Mrs. Curwen and Mercy, I left with Mayhew, to go and relieve Madame Chansette’s anxiety. "Did I hear you say you saved the young King?" he asked me as we passed down the stairs. "Yes, unfortunately." "Unfortunately! Why, when it’s known, you’ll be the most popular hero in all Spain." "And to-night, I am about the most wretched. I could wish His Majesty had gone to the devil before I interfered in the matter;" and feeling half-distracted by my gloomy thoughts, I pushed on through the now clearing streets in the direction of Madame Chansette’s house. We found her waiting up in great distress at Sarita’s prolonged absence, and dreading to hear she had been arrested. The news we brought relieved her anxiety, and having stayed with her a short time we left. "Where are you going now?" asked Mayhew. "Hadn’t you better come and turn in with me?"