Fitz gave a sudden, sharp sigh, which made the Count pause for a moment. "You also have received kindness from Challoner," went on the elder man, after a short silence. Fitz nodded comprehensively. "And, like myself," the Count continued, rather quickly, "you are naturally interested in his daughter, and sorry for her in her great change of circumstances. Now, it has occurred to me that together we might do something towards helping her. You know her better than I do. I only know that she is proud." "Very much to her credit," put in Fitz, looking fixedly at his own boots. "Entirely so. And I respect her for it. Unfortunately, assistance could hardly come from you--a young man. Whereas, I might be her grandfather." He looked up with a smile--keen, black-haired, lithe of frame--a young man in appearance. "We might help each other," he added, "you and I, quite alone. Captain Bontnor is a very worthy old fellow, but--" and he shrugged his shoulders. "We cannot leave her to the wayward charity of a capricious woman!" he added, with sudden bluntness. He looked rather wonderingly at Fitz, who did not respond to this suggestion, as he had expected him to do. The coalition seemed so natural and so eminently practical, and yet the sailor sat coldly listening to each proposition as it fell from his companion's lips, weighing it, sifting it with a judicial, indifferent apathy. The Count de Lloseta threw himself back in his chair, and awaited, with all the gravity of his race, the pleasure of his companion. At length Fitz spoke, rather deliberately. "I think," he said, "you mistake the footing upon which I stand with respect to Miss Challoner. I shall be most happy to do all in my power; but I tell you frankly that it does not amount to much. I am indebted to her indirectly for some very pleasant visits to D'Erraha; her father was very kind to me. Hardly sufficient to warrant anything that would look like interference on my part." The Count was too discreet a man to press the point any further. "All this unfortunate difficulty would have been easily averted had I been less stupid. I shall never cease to regret it." He spoke conversationally, flicking the end of his cigar neatly into the fire, and without looking at Fitz. "I never foresaw the natural tendency of lawyers to complicate the affairs of life. My man in Palma was unfortunately zealous." Fitz nodded. "Yes," he said, "I was there." Cipriani de Lloseta glanced at him sharply. "I am glad of that," he said. "It was very stupid of me. I ought to have telegraphed to him to hold his tongue." "But Miss Challoner could not have accepted the Val d'Erraha as a present?" "Oh yes, she could, if she had not known. These little things are only a matter of sentiment." Fitz leant forward, looking into the Count's face without attempting to conceal his surprise. "Do you mean to say you would have given it to her?" he asked.