I left them and
received him in the garden--supposing that he wished to speak to me,
about the affair of Saluces, and preferring, like the King my master,
to talk of matters of State in the open air.

However, I was mistaken. Don Antonio said nothing about Savoy, but
after the usual preliminaries, which a Spaniard never omits, plunged
into a long harangue upon the comity which, now that peace reigned,
should exist between the two nations. For some time I waited patiently
to learn what he would be at; but he seemed to be lost in his own
eloquence, and at last I took him up.

"All this is very well, M. d'Evora," I said. "I quite agree with you
that the times are changed, that amity is not the same thing as war,
and that a grain of sand in the eye is unpleasant," for he had said all
of these things. "But I fail, being a plain man and no diplomatist, to
see what you want me to do."

"It is the smallest matter," he said, waving his hand gracefully.

"And yet," I retorted, "you seem to find a difficulty in coming at it."

"As you do at the grain of sand in the eye," he answered wittily.
"After all, however, in what you say, M. de Rosny, there is some truth.
I feel that I am, on delicate ground; but I am sure that you will
pardon me. You have in your suite a certain Diego."

"It may be so," I said, masking my surprise, and affecting indifference.

"A tennis-player."

I shrugged my shoulders. "The man is known," I said.

"A Protestant?"

"It is not impossible."

"And a subject of the King, my master. A man," Don Antonio continued,
with increasing stiffness, "in fine, M. de Rosny, who, after committing
various offences, murdered his comrade in prison, and, escaping in his
clothes, took refuge in this country."

I shrugged my shoulders again.

"I have no knowledge of that," I said coldly.

"No, or I am sure that you would not harbour the fellow," the secretary
answered. "Now that you do know it, however, I take it for granted
that you will dismiss him? If you held any but the great place you do
hold, M. de Rosny, it would be different; but all the world see who
follow you, and this man's presence stains you, and is an offence to my
master."

"Softly, softly, M. d'Evora," I said, with a little warmth. "You go
too fast. Let me tell you first, that, for my honour, I take care of
it myself; and, secondly, for your master, I do not allow even my own
to meddle with my household."

"But, my lord," he sai