In this manner the lovers continue to correspond, a week elapsing between each question and answer, unless a devoutly wished-for saint’s day shortens the interval. A lover who for months feeds his passion on dissyllables, sweetened only by an occasional lifting of Flamenca’s veil or a furtive touch of her finger, deserves at any rate the praise of constancy. Does the reader care to hear the dialogue in which this extraordinary intrigue is carried on? Here is the series of questions and answers, divided, it must be remembered, by an interval of several days, and exchanged under the very eyes of the jealous husband, who mistakes for pious mutterings of the Catholic ritual what in reality is offered at a very different shrine:— Guillem, in answer to Flamenca’s question above cited: _Muer mi_ (I die). Flamenca: _De que?_ (what of?) G.: _D’amor_ (of love). F.: _Per cui?_ (for whom?) G.: _Per vos_ (for you). F.: _Quen puesc?_ (how can I help it?) G.: _Garir_ (heal me). F.: _Consi?_ (how?) G.: _Per gein_ (by subtle craft). F.: _Pren li_ (use it). G.: _Pres l’ai_ (I have). F.: _E cal?_ (what craft?) G.: _Iretz_ (you must go). F.: _Es on?_ (where to?) G.: _Als banz_ (to the baths). This requires a word of explanation. Bourbon in Auvergne, the seat of Count Archimbaut, was then, as it is now, a well-known spa, of the arrangements of which the author gives rather a curious description. ‘Here,’ he says, ‘every one, stranger or native, can bathe in excellent fashion. In each bath-room you can see written up for what malady it is good. No lame or gouty person would come there but he would go away quite cured, provided he stopped long enough. Here one can bathe when he likes, provided he have come to terms with the landlord who lets the bath. And in each of the cells there is to be found boiling water, and in another part cold.... Adjoining these baths are rooms where people can lie down and rest and refresh themselves as they like.’ There is also a capital portrait of the typical lodging-house keeper, who—wonderful touch of nature which makes Margate and Bourbon kin—recommends a particular room ‘because Count Raoul takes it every time he comes to Bourbon.’