you, you may count
upon me to shield him."

"You are very good, Count. But shield him from what?"

"From whatever may threaten. The Portuguese Government may demand in
self-protection, to appease the clamour of the people stupidly outraged
by this affair, that an example shall be made of the offender."

"Oh, but how could they? With what reason?" She displayed a vague alarm,
and a less vague impatience of such hypotheses.

He shrugged. "The people are like that--a fierce, vengeful god to whom
appeasing sacrifices must be offered from time to time. If the people
demand a scapegoat, governments usually provide one. But be comforted."
In his eagerness of reassurance he caught her delicate mittened hand in
his own, and her anxiety rendering her heedless, she allowed it to lie
there gently imprisoned. "Be comforted. I shall be here to guard him.
There is much that I can do and you may depend upon me to do it--for
your sake, dear lady. The Government will listen to me. I would not
have you imagine me capable of boasting. I have influence with the
Government, that is all; and I give you my word that so far as the
Portuguese Government is concerned your brother shall take no harm."

She looked at him for a long moment with moist eyes, moved and flattered
by his earnestness and intensity of homage. "I take this very kindly
in you, sir. I have no thanks that are worthy," she said, her voice
trembling a little. "I have no means of repaying you. You have made me
very happy, Count."

He bent low over the frail hand he was holding.

"Your assurance that I have made you happy repays me very fully, since
your happiness is my tenderest concern. Believe me, dear lady, you may
ever count Jeronymo de Samoval your most devoted and obedient slave."

He bore the hand to his lips and held it to them for a long moment,
whilst with heightened colour and eyes that sparkled, more, be it
confessed, from excitement than from gratitude, she stood passively
considering his bowed dark head.

As he came erect again a movement under the archway caught his eye, and
turning he found himself confronting Sir Terence and Miss Armytage,
who were approaching. If it vexed him to have been caught by a husband
notoriously jealous in an attitude not altogether uncompromising,
Samoval betrayed no sign of it.

With smooth self-possession he hailed O'Moy:

"General, you come in time to enable me to take my leave of you. I was
on the point of going."

"