He turned to draw forward a chair, and the light from the high,
barred window falling full on his head, betrayed the fact that his
hair, close cut as an English soldier's, was touched and flecked
with grey. His lithe youthfulness of frame rather surprised Eve,
who knew him to be a contemporary of her father's.

"It is very good of you to come," he went on in a low voice. "I
took the privilege of the elder generation, you see! Captain, pray
take that chair."

He did the honours with a British ease of manner, strangely touched
by a Spanish dignity.

"When I heard of your great bereavement," he said, turning to Eve
with a grave bow, "I ought perhaps to have gone to Mallorca at once
to offer you what poor assistance was in my power. But
circumstances, over which I had no control, prevented my doing so.
My offer of help is tardy, I know, but it is none the less sincere."

"Thank you," replied Eve, conscious of a feeling of pleasant
reliance in this new-found ally. "But I have good friends--the
Padre Fortis, my uncle, and--a friend of ours, Mr. FitzHenry."

"Of the Kittiwake--at Mahon?"

"Yes."

"I have the pleasure of knowing Mr. FitzHenry," murmured the Count.
"Now," he said, with a sudden smile which took her by surprise by
reason of the alteration it made in the whole man, "will you do me a