“Does he, the rogue?  Does he indeed?  Well, it would be rude to contradict him, wouldn’t it, so I for one unreservedly accept his statement that he knows nothing, and I advise you to do the same.  No, no, my boy, do not trouble to explain, we all quite understand.  Now, my good dame,” he went on addressing the serving-woman who had entered the place, “take this young lady to the best room you have above.  And, listen, both of you, she is to be treated with all kindness, do you hear, for if any harm comes to her, either at your hands or her own, by Heaven! you shall pay for it to the last drop of your blood.  Now, no excuses and—­no mistakes.”

The two women, Meg and the other, nodded and motioned to Elsa to accompany them.  She considered a moment, looking first at Ramiro and next at Adrian.  Then her head dropped upon her breast, and turning without a word she followed them up the creaking oaken stair that rose from a niche near the wall of the ingle-nook.

“Father,” said Adrian when the massive door had closed behind her and they were left alone—­“father—­for I suppose that I must call you so.”

“There is not the slightest necessity,” broke in Ramiro; “facts, my dear son, need not always be paraded in the cold light of day—­fortunately.  But, proceed.”

“What does all this mean?”

“I wish I could tell you.  It appears to mean, however, that without any effort upon your part, for you seem to me a young man singularly devoid of resource, your love affairs are prospering beyond expectation.”

“I have had nothing to do with the business; I wash my hands of it.”

“That is as well.  Some sensitive people might think they need a deal of washing.  You young fool,” he went on, dropping his mocking manner, “listen to me.  You are in love with this pink and white piece of goods, and I have brought her here for you to marry.”

“And I refuse to marry her against her will.”

“As to that you can please yourself.  But somebody has got to marry her—­you, or I.”

“You—­you!” gasped Adrian.

“Quite so.  The adventure is not one, to be frank, that attracts me.  At my age memories are sufficient.  But material interests must be attended to, so if you decline—­well, I am still eligible and hearty.  Do you see the point?”

“No, what is it?”

“It is a sound title to the inheritance of the departed Hendrik Brant.  That wealth we might, it is true, obtain by artifice or by arms; but how much better that it should come into the family in a regular fashion, thereby ousting the claim of the Crown.  Things in this country are disturbed at present, but they will not always be disturbed, for in the end somebody must give way and order will prevail.  Then questions might be asked, for persons in possession of great riches are always the mark of envy.  But if the heiress is married to a good Catholic and loyal subject of the king, who can cavil at rights sanctified by the laws of God and man?  Think it over, my dear Adrian, think it over.  Step-mother or wife—­you can take your choice.”