"I believe I may, without injustice, ask the same question of you," answered a familiar voice; and as they advanced from between the columns into the light of a shrine, Ronald beheld with surprise the face of Louis Lisle. "I did not expect you so very suddenly, and especially here at Toledo," said he, dubious in what manner to greet his old friend, whose features became at once clouded by the cold and stern expression which they had generally worn of late, especially since the hour in which he beheld the interview between Stuart and Catalina in the cottage at Almarez. "You have made expedition in your march from Lisbon." "I arrived here about two hours ago, with a detachment of convalescents from Belem. You are aware that the division marches at sun-rise to-morrow; so I wish to see the cathedral before leaving Toledo," and turning coldly, he was about to move off. "Louis Lisle," exclaimed Ronald, suddenly and fiercely, as he strode before and intercepted him, while all his long pent up indignation broke forth uncontrollably; "halt, sir! You shall not stir one pace from the spot until I have spoken with you. We must come to an explanation; my own honour demands it. Whence is it, that you treat me in this studied, cold, and insolent manner, and have ever done so since that hour in which we met on the plain at La Nava?" "Recall to mind your conduct on that occasion, and I presume you are sufficiently answered," was the cold reply. "Lisle—Lisle!" exclaimed Ronald bitterly, "when children, when youths at home in our own country among the woods of Inchavon and Lochisla, we were constant companions and friends,—brothers in all but blood. Oh! why should it be otherwise now?’ "Ask that question of yourself, sir,—ask of your own false heart!’ replied Louis, proudly and indignantly. "Fury! Were you not the brother—" "Stay, Mr. Stuart; I am not accustomed to be addressed in these thundering tones." "Diaoul, Mr. Lisle! I am at a loss to understand what you mean," exclaimed Ronald, his wrath increasing. "Did you not, during the retreat into Portugal, and the advance again from Castello Branca into Spanish Estremadura, treat me with singular hauteur and coldness? so much so, that it has been remarked by the whole regiment,—ay, even the brigade?’" "I acknowledge that _I have_, Mr. Stuart," said Lisle, drawing himself up to his full height, and setting his bonnet haughtily on one side. "Death and fury, Louis!" exclaimed Stuart, regardless of awakening a thousand echoes; "and for what has this been the cause?" "I repeat to you again—search your own heart; the cause lies there."