"Are you aware also that her mother was of the race of the Guzmans of Castille, and that in her is concentrated the purest Spanish, with the oldest blood of Portugal?" "Well, as to that," replied Hughes, who could not help smiling, though feeling very anxious, "I can count pedigree with any man, only instead of the Guzmans of Castille, I must refer you back to the rude hills of the Cymri and the chieftains, my ancestors, who wore their golden torques, when the Druids raised their altars in Britain, and before even the Romans knew the land." The speaker's voice showed pride and dignity fully equal to that of the noble, though there breathed through the words a spirit of mockery and cynicism. Dom Maxara bowed courteously. "I can hardly perceive the analogy between your skin-clad ancestors and the chivalrous barons of my land," he replied coldly. "I regret to hear it, Senhor," said the soldier, with some show of humour, "and it yet remains for me to learn how as to birth and old lineage I am so immeasurably your inferior," he continued, sharply. "The boon I ask of you is great, so great that a lifetime of devotion will not pay my debt, but in other matters," and here the delicacy of the subject striking him, he paused. "In a word, Senhor Maxara, my fortune is small, very small, and resumes itself thus:--A captain's commission, an income of five hundred a year besides, and an old name, and old house in Wales. In worldly means I am not rich, but in love for Dona Isabel I will not yield even to a father." "And she has told you that your love is returned, has she not?" asked the noble. "She has led me to hope it may, and that hope is the loadstar of my existence; and one with which I will never part." "Listen, Senhor Hughes. My father, Dom Antonio Mendez de Maxara," said the noble, speaking slowly and deliberately, "was a rich man. Added to a proud name, he enjoyed large estates. When I married into the noble house of the Guzmans of Castille, few had a brighter prospect than myself. My father mixed himself up with the political parties of the land. He was unfortunate, and, like many another, plunged more deeply into intrigue. Not content with that, he must needs join the Guzmans in their schemes against the Queen of Spain, thus not only rendering himself obnoxious to the Portuguese Government, but hated and feared by the cruel and treacherous Narvaez. "Years passed on, Isabel was born, and her mother paid for the young life with her own." The noble paused, and seemed buried in sad reflections as the cigarette smoke curled upwards. "Run that warp forward, clap it on to the capstan," shouted the clear voice of the captain. "Heave with a will, my lads. The old barky knows her way out into blue water. Run the boats up to the davits, Mr Lowe." The brig's head, now the anchor was clear of the ground, slowly fell off under the strain put upon the warp, and she moved through the water in the direction of the entrance.