"Perhaps," continued the Spaniard imperturbably, "you have not yet
made up your mind on the subject."

"But the Casa d'Erraha does not belong to me," said Eve, and Captain
Bontnor wagged his head in confirmation. "Your own lawyer explained
to me that my father only held it on 'rotas.'"

"My own lawyer, my dear young lady, thereby proved himself an ass."

"But," said Eve, somewhat mystified, "the Val d'Erraha belongs to
you, and you must know it. I have no title-deeds--I have nothing."

"Except possession, which is nine points of the law. Will you take
tea, and cream? I do not know how many points the law has, but one
would naturally conclude that nine is a large proportion of the
whole."

While he spoke he was pouring out the tea. He handed a cup to her
with a grave smile, as if the matter under discussion were one of a
small and passing importance.

"I suppose," he added, "you have learnt to love the Casa d'Erraha.
It is a place--a place one might easily become attached to. Do you
know"--he turned his back to her, busying himself with the silver
teapot--"Lloseta?" he added jerkily.

"Yes. My father and I used to go there very often."

"Ah--" He waited--handing Captain Bontnor a cup of tea in silence.