After he had spoken thus freely, Rollo continued to muse, and the Sergeant to watch him. The latter had a great opinion of this young man's practical ability. "If he had had but the fortune to be born poor--and in Andalucia, he might have been one day as great as I!" was the opinion of this modest Sergeant. And indeed he spoke but the words of truth and soberness. For it was the opinion of nine out of ten of his countrymen that he, Jose Maria of Ronda, was the greatest man of all time. "Well," said Rollo at last, "let us go up and talk a little to my friends and El Sarria. I think I see a way of inducing her Royal Highness to accompany us. But it will require some firmness, and even a certain amount of severity." The Sergeant nodded with grim appreciation. "It is a pity with women," he said philosophically, "but sometimes, I know, it is the only way." "The severity I speak of," continued Rollo, not regarding his words, "will mostly fall to the lot of the Senor Munoz. But we may chance to work on the lady's feelings through him." The Sergeant gave Rollo a quick glance, in which was discernible a certain alertness of joy. The Sergeant also did not love his grandeeship, the Duke of Rianzares. So these two went abreast up the great staircase, and found the Princess Isabel already playing joyously with Etienne, John Mortimer joining clumsily in as best he could. Concha had vanished, and La Giralda was nowhere to be seen. "The rogue is in no haste to visit her mother after her night adventure!" said the Sergeant in a low tone, as Rollo and he stood watching the scene from the doorway. "Nor I," admitted Rollo with a smile, "yet see the lady we must!" "And shall!" said the Sergeant. Yet in spite of the unpleasant interview which lay before him, Rollo could not help smiling at the game that was going forward in the upper hall. "_Sur le pont d' Avignon, Tout le monde y passe,_" chanted Etienne. "_Tout le monde y passe!_" chorused the little Princess, holding out her hands. John Mortimer made a confused noise in his throat and presently was compelled to join the circle and dance slowly round, his countenance meantime suggestive of the mental reserve that such undignified proceedings could only be excused as being remotely connected with the safe shipment of a hundred hogsheads of Priorato. "_The children walk like this, And the ladies walk like that----_" There was no help for it. Etienne and the Princess first mimicked the careless trip of the children, and then, with chin in the air and lift of imaginary furbelow, the haughty tread of the good dames of Avignon as they took their way homeward over that ancient bridge.