y trace to that last
stroke of Fortune the wasted splendour of his eyes, the look of a dying
stag, which, once seen, haunted the observer. He was extraordinarily
handsome, except for his narrow shoulders and hollow eyes, flawlessly
clean in person and dress; a tall, straight, hawk-nosed, sallow
gentleman. The Archbishop of Toledo was his first cousin, a cadet of
his house. He was entitled to wear his hat in the presence of the
Queen, and he lived upon fivepence a day.

Manvers, reaching Valladolid in the evening, reposed himself for a day
or two, and recovered from his shock. He saw the sights, conversed
with affability with all and sundry, drank _agraz_ in the Cafe de la
Luna. He must have beamed without knowing it upon Don Luis, for his
brisk appearance, twisted smile and abrupt manner were familiar to that
watchful gentleman by the time that, sweeping aside the curtain like a
buffet of wind, he entered the goldsmith's shop in the Plaza San
Benito. He came in a little before twilight one afternoon, holding by
a string in one hand some swinging object, taking off his hat with the
other as soon as he was past the curtain of the door.

"Can you," he said to Sebastian, in very fair Spanish, "take up a job
for me a little out of the common?" As he spoke he swung the object
into the air, caught it and enclosed it with his hand. Don Luis, in a
dark corner of the shop, sat back in his accustomed chair, and watched
him. He sat very still, a picture of mournful interest, shrouding his
mouth in his hand.

Sebastian, first master of his craft in a city of goldsmiths, was far
too much the gentleman to imply that any command of his customer need
not be extraordinary. Bowing with gravity, and adjusting the glasses
upon his fine nose, he replied that when he understood the nature of
the business he should be better instructed for his answer. Thereupon
Manvers opened his hand and passed over the counter a brass crucifix.

It is difficult to disturb the self-possession of a gentleman of Spain;
Sebastian did not betray by a twitch what his feelings or thoughts may
have been. He gravely scrutinised the battered cross, back and front,
was polite enough to ignore the greasy string, and handed it back
without a single word. It may have been worth half a _real_; to watch
his treatment of it was cheap at a dollar.

Manvers, however, flushed with annoyance, and spoke somewhat loftily.
"Am I to understand that you will, or