llington has come to the conclusion that all the
resistance, passive and active, which he has encountered, results from
the Principal Souza's influence upon the Council. You will not, I think,
trouble to deny it, sir."

Forjas spread his hands. "You will remember, General," he answered, in
tones of conciliatory regret, "that the Principal Souza represents a
class upon whom Lord Wellington's measures bear in a manner peculiarly
hard."

"You mean that he represents the Portuguese nobility and landed
gentry, who, putting their own interests above those of the State, have
determined to oppose and resist the devastation of the country which
Lord Wellington recommends."

"You put it very bluntly," Forjas admitted.

"You will find Lord Wellington's own words even more blunt," said O'Moy,
with a grim smile, and turned to the dispatch he held. "Let me read you
exactly what he writes:

"'As for Principal Souza, I beg you to tell him from me that as I have
had no satisfaction in transacting the business of this country since he
has become a member of the Government, no power on earth shall induce
me to remain in the Peninsula if he is either to remain a member of the
Government or to continue in Lisbon. Either he must quit the country, or
I will do so, and this immediately after I have obtained his Majesty's
permission to resign my charge.'"

The adjutant put down the letter and looked expectantly at the Secretary
of State, who returned the look with one of utter dismay. Never in all
his career had the diplomat been so completely dumbfounded as he was
now by the simple directness of the man of action. In himself Dom Miguel
Forjas was both shrewd and honest. He was shrewd enough to apprehend to
the full the military genius of the British Commander-in-Chief, fruits
of which he had already witnessed. He knew that the withdrawal of
Junot's army from Lisbon two years ago resulted mainly from the
operations of Sir Arthur Wellesley--as he was then--before his
supersession in the supreme command of that first expedition, and he
more than suspected that but for that supersession the defeat of the
first French army of invasion might have been even more signal. He had
witnessed the masterly campaign of 1809, the battle of the Douro and
the relentless operations which had culminated in hurling the shattered
fragments of Soult's magnificent army over the Portuguese frontier,
thus liberating that country for the second time from the thra