consideration by stirring up strife and disloyalty in the establishment.
But before the anarchist subtracted himself from his occupation, he had
appropriated certain sums of money, and these had helped to carry him on,
when he attached himself to the revolutionaries. It was on his
daughter's savings that he was now travelling, with the only thing he
had saved from the downfall, which was his head. It was of sufficient
personal value to make him quite cheerful as the Antoine plunged and
shivered on her way to the country where he could have no steady work
as a revolutionist.

With reserve and caution the Basque captain felt it his duty to tell Jean
Jacques of his suspicions, warning him that the Spaniards were the
choicest liars in the world, and were not ashamed of it; but had the same
pride in it as had their greatest rivals, the Arabs and the Egyptians.

His discreet confidences, however, were of no avail; he was not discreet
enough. If he had challenged the bona fides of Sebastian Dolores only,
he might have been convincing, but he used the word "they" constantly,
and that roused the chivalry of Jean Jacques. That the comely, careful
Carmen should be party to an imposture was intolerable. Everything about
her gave it the lie. Her body was so perfect and complete, so finely
contrived and balanced, so cunningly curved with every line filled in;
her eye was so full of lustre and half-melancholy too; her voice had such
a melodious monotone; her mouth was so ripe and yet so distant in its
luxury, that imposture was out of the question.

Ah, but Jean Jacques was a champion worth while! He did nothing by
halves. He was of the breed of men who grow more intense, more
convinced, more thorough, as they talk. One adjective begets another,
one warm allusion gives birth to a warmer, one flashing impulse evokes a