his companion urged their tired horses up the last slope to the Casa
d'Erraha. Within the gateway Mrs. Baines, the only English servant
in this English house, was awaiting them. She curtsied in an old-
fashioned way to the doctor, who had not seen an Englishwoman's face
for two years and more, and asked him to follow her. Fitz did not
offer to accompany them--indeed, he made it quite obvious that he
did not want to do so. Two of the vague attendants who are always
to be found in their numbers about the doorway and stableyard of a
Spanish country-house took the horses, and Fitz wandered round the
patio to the southern door which led to the terrace.

There was not very much change in Henry FitzHenry since we saw him
in Mrs. Harrington's drawing-room six years earlier. The promise of
the boy had been fulfilled by the man, and here was a quiet
Englishman, chiefly remarkable for a certain directness of purpose
which was his, and seemed to pervade his being. Here was one who
had commanded men--who had directed skilled labour for the six
impressionable years of his life. And he who directs skilled labour
is apt to differ in manner, in thought and habit, from him whose
commands are obeyed mechanically.

The naval officer is a man of detail--he tells others to do that
which they know he can do better himself.

They said on board the Kittiwake, which was a small ship, that
Fitz,--"old" Fitz, they used to call him--was too big for a
seafaring life. In height, he was nearly six feet--six feet of
spare muscle and bone--such a man as one sees on the north-east
coast of England, the east coast of Scotland, or the west coast of
Norway--anywhere, in fact, where the Vikings passed.