L’Isle bit his lip till the blood came, while Sir Rowland, stepping over to Lord Strathern, asked in an undertone:  “What is the matter with L’Isle, my lord? he seems strangely out of humor.”

“The truth is, Sir Rowland,” said his lordship, in a confidential tone, “somebody in Elvas has been quizzing L’Isle, and a man of his vanity cannot stand being quizzed.”

“Quizzed!” said Sir Rowland.  “Does quizzing make a man mad?”

L’Isle dared not trust himself longer in Lord Strathern’s company; he wanted time to recover his self-command; so he again addressed Sir Rowland:  “That I left Elvas so suddenly, and unprepared for a prolonged absence, matters little, Sir Rowland; but I have been so little with my regiment of late, that—­”

“Let your major take care of it a few days longer,” Sir Rowland answered, in a positive tone.

“You had better let L’Isle go, Sir Rowland,” said Lord Strathern.  “He is afraid to lose sight of his regiment, lest they become banditti.”

L’Isle’s flushed cheek and compressed lips, showed that he felt the taunt, while Sir Rowland exclaimed, in surprise:  “Are they so unruly?  Then you must look to them yourself, my lord, for I shall keep Colonel L’Isle a while with me.  The truth is, L’Isle, I divine your urgent business at Elvas.  Some one there has given you gross offence, and you seek revenge under the name of satisfaction.  There is always sin and folly enough in these affairs; but here, within sight of the smoke of the enemy’s camp, and now, when we are about to fall upon them, these personal feuds are criminal madness.  I would put you under arrest, sooner than let you post off to Elvas on so bloodthirsty an errand.”

Sir Rowland uttered this speech with an air worthy of his Puritan uncle, of Calvinistic memory; but, in spite of the respect due to the speaker, it was too much for the gravity of his hearers.  Lord Strathern and his companions burst into a roar of laughter, and even L’Isle, amidst all his anger, felt tempted to join them.

“Gentlemen,” said Sir Rowland, in grave astonishment, “I like a joke as well as any of you.  Pray explain this, that I may share your enjoyment.”

Bradshawe, with an effort, cut short his laughter, to say:  “As a neutral party, Sir Rowland, I will be Colonel L’Isle’s surety, that in whatever mood he may set out for Elvas, as soon as he finds himself in the presence of his enemy there, he will be gentle as a lamb.”

“You deal in mysteries; who in Elvas is so safe from L’Isle’s resentment?”

“Nobody but Lady Mabel Stewart.”

“Lady Mabel Stewart!” exclaimed Sir Rowland, looking at Lord Strathern.  “If a lady contrived this plot, I shall never unravel it; so you must do it for me.”

“Perhaps the explanation,” said Bradshawe, “would come more gracefully from my lord.”

“If I knew the details of it,” said Lord Strathern, interrupting his hearty laughter, for he seemed resolved, at all hazard, to recover his fifty guineas, in sport, out of L’Isle.  “I can tell but the beginning; and then, Sir Rowland, you can squeeze the rest out of L’Isle himself.”