Lucius smiled, the free joyous smile of a light-hearted youth to whom anything would be welcome that might come in the shape of adventure. He was one to whom
"If a path be dangerous known,
The danger's self is lure alone."
What an attractive episode in a life given to dull counting-house drudgery would be some exploit performed in a romantic Spanish posada! Consideration for his widowed mother, of whom he was the earthly stay, would have kept Lucius from wantonly risking his safety for mere amusement; but to run some risk for the sake of a friend was quite a different thing. Even conscience made no protest, so inclination might be gratified without violation of duty.
Lucius now rose and took his leave of the young desolate being to whom he was more than ever anxious to act the part of a brother. It cannot be denied that the pleasure of serving Inez was a great additional stimulus to the Englishman's efforts to help his friend. As Lucius quitted the patio on the one side, it was entered on the other by Teresa, who caught sight of the visitor's form ere it disappeared under the archway.
"Donna Inez!" exclaimed the old duenna, almost choking with indignation, "how dare that Inglesito presume to enter a house of sorrow like this! How can you—the grand-daughter of Don Pedro de Aguilera—you, a high-born lady of Andalusia, brought up as becomes your rank—suffer the shadow of that foreign heretic to darken this threshold! We have had nothing but misery since that young man came near us with his deceiving words and his dangerous book! If I'd my will"—the duenna clenched her hands and stretched forth her skinny arms as she spoke—"I'd fling both the heretic and his book into the Guadalquivir!"
"Oh! hush! hush!" exclaimed Inez de Aguilera; "would you speak thus of the only protector whom we have found in Seville, the only being who comes forward to help us when all the rest of the world stand back?"
Teresa's passion was cooling a little, but her Spanish pride recoiled from the idea that the family whom she served should need either help or protection from an English clerk in the employ of Messrs. Passmore and Perkins.
"The house of De Aguilera has many friends in Seville," said the ancient retainer.
"Where are these friends?" exclaimed Inez with emotion. "I have been to Donna Maria—to her who was my mother's playmate in childhood, and companion in youth. She refused even to see me!"
Teresa lifted up her hands, and uttered an exclamation of indignant surprise.