and bitterly reproached him for thus
dishonouring him.... Philip was a humane and generous-minded man, and
understood that with a certain temperament it might be annoying to have
one's ward philander with a king, so he did his best to console the
courtier. He called him his friend and brother; he told him he would
always love him, but Don Sebastian would not be consoled. And nothing
would comfort him except to be made High Admiral of the Fleet. Philip
was charmed to settle the matter so simply, and as he delighted in
generosity when to be generous cost him nothing, he also created Don
Sebastian Duke of Losas, and gave him, into the bargain, the hand of
the richest heiress in Spain.

And that is the end of the story of the punctiliousness of Don
Sebastian. With his second wife he lived many years, beloved of his
sovereign, courted by the world, honoured by all, till he was visited by
the Destroyer of Delights and the Leveller of the Grandeur of this
World....

VIII

Towards evening, the Duke of Losas passed my hotel, and, seeing me at
the door, asked if I had read the manuscript.

'I thought it interesting,' I said, a little coldly, for, of course, I
knew no Englishman would have acted like Don Sebastian.

He shrugged his shoulders.

'It is not half so interesting as a good dinner.'

At these words I felt bound to offer him such hospitality as the hotel
afforded. I found him a very agreeable messmate. He told me the further
history of his family, which nearly became extinct at the end of the
last century, since the only son of the seventh duke had, unfortunately,
not been born of any duchess. But Ferdinand, who was then King of Spain,
was unwilling that an ancient family should die out, and was, at the
same time, sorely in want of money; so the titles and honours of the
house were continued to the son of the seventh duke, and King Ferdinand
built himself another palace.

'But now,' said my guest, mournfully shaking his head, 'it is finished.
My palace and a few acres of barren rock are all that remain to me of
the lands of my ancestors, and I am the last of the line.'

But I bade him not despair. He was a bachelor and a duke, and not yet
forty. I advised him to go to the United States before they put a duty
on foreign noblemen; this was before the war; and I recommended him to
take Maida Vale and Manchester on his way. Personally, I gave him a
letter of introduction to an heiress of my acquaintance at Hamps