"Alas! if _you_ have not been exempt from trouble, who shall dare complain?" exclaimed Edric, in a voice as soft and tremulous as her own. Pauline turned her beautiful eyes upon him: "Pardon me, Sir," said she, "that I have not before thanked you! be assured it has not been for want of feeling your kindness; but sometimes the heart is too full for utterance." "Thanks from your lips, madam," returned Roderick, "would be a reward for any service." Pauline blushed: "You too, Sir, were kindness itself," rejoined she: "think not I am insensible to your favours; but I am a bankrupt even in thanks. Alas! fate destines us to incur continually obligations which we can never repay." "A grateful heart is more than words," said her father; "and in that, my child, I know, you will never be deficient; but to whom are we indebted for such kindness?" "I am the King of Ireland," said Roderick, smiling; "surnamed the devil's favourite here in Spain." "Is it possible?" cried M. de Mallet; "do I, indeed, see the illustrious Roderick?" "And this," continued Roderick, without noticing his exclamation, "is my friend, Mr. Montagu, an Englishman; who, like many of his countrymen, not contented with enjoying every luxury at home, rambles into foreign climes, to grumble and find fault with every thing he may chance to meet." "Do not believe him, madam," cried Edric; "my countrymen are fond of travelling, it is true; and may find fault occasionally with what they think deficient in a strange land; but I assure you, we travel from a desire of improving ourselves and acquiring knowledge, whilst we only find fault in the charitable hope that our censures may produce amendment." "That is, supposing your censures are just," replied Roderic; "but that we sometimes take the liberty to doubt." "I think nothing more unreasonable than to censure customs merely because we are not used to them," said M. de Mallet; "for my part, when I travel, I make up my mind to be satisfied with every thing, as I think I have no right to quarrel with inconveniences I have sought myself." "It would be well," rejoined Roderick, "if all were of your opinion, and if those who cannot be contented abroad would try to rest contented at home. But you speak as though you had travelled, and I think your daughter mentioned yesterday that you were strangers in Spain." "We are Swiss," replied M. de Mallet; "my name is de Mallet, a name which you may have heard as belonging to a champion of liberty. Powerless as my efforts have been, I was that champion, and the reward of my labours is poverty and disgrace in a foreign land." "But surely," said Roderick, "the Spaniards as a nation of freemen would receive a martyr for liberty with open arms, and would treat him as a brother." "Yes, yes," replied M. de Mallet bitterly; "I have had a tolerable specimen of their fraternal affection: they received me with protestations, fed me with delusive promises, and then left me to perish miserably."