The last desire resulted from the unpleasant recollection of the Padre Trevino's face and intonation of voice, when he spoke so impressively of the _interest he_ felt in the lady committed to his care, and the sternly expressed anxiety that she should reach Portalegre "without hindrance or _delay_." Was the fellow only acting a part, or could it be that the ugly ogre actually had some tender fancy for Isidora? Whether he had or not, an unfrocked friar, especially of his peculiar character, had not much chance of success with the sister or support from the brother, so Quentin dismissed the idea. "How charming she looks!" he thought, stealing a glance at the long lashes of the now pensive eyes, the soft features half shaded by the black lace veil, and the graceful contour of her bust and shoulders, in her low-cut scarlet velvet corset. "How delightful, if, instead of being lost in this barbarous place, she were at Rohallion or Ardgour; what a lovely friend and companion for Flora!" Poor Quentin! Alas, this was but the sophistry of the heart, and was, perhaps, its first impulse towards the donna herself, and might end by her image supplanting Flora's there. "Such desecration, that her hand should even be touched by such a wretch as Trevino!" He had muttered his last thought aloud, so Donna Isidora looked up and said-- "You mentioned the Padre Trevino?" "Did I?--surely not?" replied Quentin, as the colour rushed into his face. "Yes--what of him, senor?" she asked, fixing her soft, dark eyes on him inquiringly. "I must have been dreaming." "Scarcely," said she, smiling, "while the thunder makes such a noise; you were thinking aloud." "Perhaps." "Of what? I insist on knowing." "I cannot help reflecting, senora, that such actions as those in which Trevino seems to exult, must damage the Spanish cause in the eyes of Europe and of humanity, and thus--excuse me----but I begin to lose faith in your countrymen, even before we test alliance with them fully." "And what say you of the recent siege of Zaragossa?" "Ah, Don José Palafox is a brave man, certainly; and brave too, is Augustina, the Maid of Zaragossa, who led the cannoneers in the defence of the Portillo against Lefebre." "She had lost her lover in the siege, so apart from inspiration, her courage was no marvel." "And you, senora--if you lost a lover?" "I have lost several; but if I lost one whom I loved, you mean?" "Yes--and who loved you well and truly?" "I would face ten thousand cannon to avenge him!--Augustina did nothing that I would not dare and do!" replied Isidora, as her eyes sparkled, and she pressed her clenched hand into the soft cheek that rested on it. "A beautiful little spitfire!" thought Quentin. "But, senor, you must be aware that neither Palafox the Arragonese nor the girl Augustina could have achieved all they did, save for the aid of our Lady del Pilar?" "What lady is she?" asked Quentin.