ht to the necessity of choosing, and however much
the Principal, voicing the outcry of his party, might argue that the
British plan was as detestable and ruinous as a French invasion, the
nation preferred to place its confidence in the conqueror of Vimeiro and
the Douro.

Souza quitted the Government and the capital as had been demanded. But
if Wellington hoped that he would quit intriguing, he misjudged his man.
He was a fellow of monstrous vanity, pride and self-sufficiency, of
the sort than which there is none more dangerous to offend. His wounded
pride demanded a salve to be procured at any cost. The wound had been
administered by Wellington, and must be returned with interest. So that
he ruined Wellington it mattered nothing to Antonio de Souza that he
should ruin himself and his own country at the same time. He was like
some blinded, ferocious and unreasoning beast, ready, even eager, to
sacrifice its own life so that in dying it can destroy its enemy and
slake its blood-thirst.

In that mood he passes out of the councils of the Portuguese Government
into a brooding and secretly active retirement, of which the fruits
shall presently be shown. With his departure the Council of Regency,
rudely shaken by the ultimatum which had driven him forth, became
more docile and active, and for a season the measures enjoined by the
Commander-in-Chief were pursued with some show of earnestness.

As a result of all this life at Monsanto became easier, and O'Moy was
able to breathe more freely, and to devote more of his time to matters
concerning the fortifications which Wellington had left largely in his
charge. Then, too, as the weeks passed, the shadow overhanging him with
regard to Richard Butler gradually lifted. No further word had there
been of the missing lieutenant, and by the end of May both O'Moy and
Tremayne had come to the conclusion that he must have fallen into the
hands of some of the ferocious mountaineers to whom a soldier--whether
his uniform were British or French--was a thing to be done to death.

For his wife's sake O'Moy came thankfully to that conclusion. Under the
circumstances it was the best possible termination to the episode. She
must be told of her brother's death presently, when evidence of it
was forthcoming; she would mourn him passionately, no doubt, for her
attachment to him was deep--extraordinarily deep for so shallow a
woman--but at least she would be spared the pain and shame she must
ine