several kinds of fiend which can be defined by the French language, but
this broke no bones.

"Well, dear _Senorita_," she remarked very sagely, when tasked by Concha
with duplicity (after the manner of Satan reproving sin), "he never
asked me, and besides, _then_ he would not have given me the six
Napoleons!"

Which last proposition of the Abigail of Sarria would not have gained in
credibility had it been supported by a Papal Bull.

CHAPTER XLIX

LIKE FIRE THROUGH SUMMER GRASS

On the whole Rollo could not complain of his reception at the Abbey of
Montblanch. His heart had indeed been at war within him as he took his
way up the long zigzags of the hill road. There was the very thorn
branch which had brushed off his hat as he set forth so gladsomely with
his new commission in his pocket, his comrades riding staunchly by his
side, and the Abbot's good horse between his knees.

Well, he had done his best. Things, after their manner, had turned out
cross-grained--that was all. He had, thank Heaven, enough of
Mendizabal's generous draft left in his pocket to repay the Abbot for
what he had spent upon their outfit. After returning the commission, it
only remained as delicately as possible to impart the disastrous news of
the coming dissolution of monasteries and the date of the assumption of
all conventual property by the State.

Then he would depart. Sarria and Concha were not so far off. He began to
take heart even before he reached the great gate of the Abbey.

No one could have been more cordially moved to see a long-lost brother
than Don Baltasar Varela, the Abbot of Montblanch, to welcome his dear,
his well-beloved Don Rollo.

And his noble nephew Saint Pierre--how fared he? Then that stolid solemn
Englishman--did he know that his _Priorato_ had long been shipped from
Barcelona, an arrangement having been made with the Cristino
custom-house?

"But the price? He has not paid it. I warrant that Mortimer knows
nothing of the matter," said Rollo, excited for his friend's credit and
good name.

The Abbot smiled as he answered.

"Our agent in France," he said blandly, "has received and cashed a draft
from some one of the same name in England--ah, there are none like the
English for business the world over! But here is a letter which has long
been waiting for that young gentleman here."

"I will deliver it to him immediately, and with great pleasure," quoth
Rollo.

The Abbot did not pursue the subje