"But really the church was grand," cried Ronald quickly in order to prevent a storm. "Lots of show and very little religion I fancy," said the irrepressible Pat. "I don't agree with you Mr. Ryan," observed Mrs. Pellypop, severely; "the solemn grandeur of that church would have an effect even on the most frivolous mind," with a significant glance at the Irishman. "I daresay the effect wouldn't endure long," said Ronald, lightly. "Religion, which appeals purely to the senses, is never so strong as that which comes straight to the mind." "Of course not," replied Pat who knew nothing about what he was talking, and only spoke to irritate the old lady, "I'd back Presbyterianism against Catholicism any day for fanaticism: it's a fight between Calvin and Peter--two to one on the winner." Mrs. Pellypop made no reply, being struck with horror at the light way in which the young man treated religion, and walked hastily away with Miss Lester so as to close the discussion. "Hang it Pat!" said Ronald, as they walked slowly behind, "why can't you leave the old girl alone?" "Because she won't leave us alone," retorted Pat. "Why the deuce should she come with us to spoil sport?" "Two young men and only one girl isn't sport!" "Oh begad! we'd have tossed for her, and the loser could have made himself scarce." They then went to the Capuchin Convent and saw the dried monks, looking grim and ghastly enough in the dim light of candles carried by their living brethren. Pat's comment on their appearance was original. "They look like Bombay duck," he said, alluding to the dried fish usually eaten with curry. "I don't think I'll touch any more of it." Kate Lester laughed. "You are amusing, but irreligious," she said, turning away. "Irreligious, certainly," observed Virtue, in the person of Mrs. Pellypop; "but amusing, no." "I don't think the old thing's got much sense of humour," whispered Pat to Ronald as they went up again into the light of day. "Well, if no one else laughs at your jokes, Pat, you always do yourself," retorted the Australian consolingly. "But come along, we'll go to the Barraca and see the view." They strolled slowly along, inhaling the fresh air, and going through the ruined Barraca, which was unroofed by one of the Grand Masters, they stepped out on to the terrace, and saw that wonderful panorama, which is one of the finest things in Valletta. A magnificent view of the open sea, the blue waters of the Quarantine Harbour, while immediately below are the Sultan's garden, the huge walls of Fort Lascaris, and the Fish Market. Away in the distance can be seen Fort Sant Elmo protecting the entrance to the port, Fort St. Angelo, which is one of the oldest in Malta, and the angular lines of fortification standing sharp and clear against the vividly blue sky. It was a gorgeous panorama, and even Mrs. Pellypop was impressed. "This place is impregnable," she said, surveying it through her glasses.