“Your Excellency may be right,” said his lordship. “Let us be quite clear, then. You suggest, speaking in the name of the Council of Regency, that I should suppress all further investigations into the manner in which Count Samoval met his death, so as to save his family the shame and the Council of Regency the discredit which must overtake one and the other if the facts are disclosed--as disclosed they would be that Samoval was a traitor and a spy in the pay of the French. That is what you ask me to do. In return your Council undertakes that there shall be no further opposition to my plans for the military defence of Portugal, and that all my measures however harsh and however heavily they may weigh upon the landowners, shall be punctually and faithfully carried out. That is your Excellency’s proposal, is it not?” “Not so much my proposal, my lord, as my most earnest intercession. We desire to spare the innocent the consequences of the sins of a man who is dead, and well dead.” He turned to O’Moy, standing there tense and anxious. It was not for Dom Miguel to know that it was the adjutant’s fate that was being decided. “Sir Terence,” he cried, “you have been here for a year, and all matters connected with the Council have been treated through you. You cannot fail to see the wisdom of my recommendation.” His lordship’s eyes flashed round upon O’Moy. “Ah yes!” he said. “What is your feeling in this matter, ‘O’Moy?” he inquired, his tone and manner void of all expression. Sir Terence faltered; then stiffened. “I--The matter is one that only your lordship can decide. I have no wish to influence your decision.” “I see. Ha! And you, Grant? No doubt you agree with Dom Miguel?” “Most emphatically--upon every count, sir,” replied the intelligence officer without hesitation. “I think Dom Miguel offers an excellent bargain. And, as he says, we hold a guarantee of its fulfilment.” “The bargain might be improved,” said Wellington slowly. “If your lordship will tell me how, the Council, I am sure, will be ready to do all that lies in its power to satisfy you.” Wellington shifted his chair round a little, and crossed his legs. He brought his finger-tips together, and over the top of them his eyes considered the Secretary of State. “Your Excellency has spoken of expediency--political expediency. Sometimes political expediency can overreach itself and perpetrate the most grave injustices. Individuals at times are unnecessarily called upon to suffer in the interests of a cause. Your Excellency will remember a certain affair at Tavora some two months ago--the invasion of a convent by a British officer with rather disastrous consequences and the loss of some lives.” “I remember it perfectly, my lord. I had the honour of entertaining Sir Terence upon that subject on the occasion of my last visit here.”