useless to wear it."

"Did the world ever before witness such complicated perfidy?"

"Perhaps not. But I trust it is about to witness its failure and
punishment."

"_We_ and the Czar will have to administer it," said Lady Mabel, with
the air of an arbitress of nations. "We cannot look for much help from
our besotted allies here."

"It must be confessed," said L'Isle, "that an unhappy fatality in
council and in action, has beset the Portuguese and Spaniards,
throughout the war. They have too often shown their patriotism by
murdering their generals, underrating their enemies and slighting
their friends. They have, too, attained the very acme of blundering;
doing the wrong thing at the wrong time, and choosing the wrong man to
do it."

"Say no more," exclaimed Lady Mabel. "If that be the verdict you find
against our allies, I will not accuse you of blindness to their
faults. They are unworthy of the lovely and romantic land they live
in," she added, gazing on the scene before her. "What beautiful
mountain is that which trenches so close upon the border, as if it
would join itself to the Serra de Portalegre?"

"It is the mountain of Albuquerque, so called from a town at its
foot."

"That was the title of the Spanish duke, who died lately in London,"