"But you were afraid, you know. I saw it in your face just now, and I could hardly keep it up. I like you too much to wish to hurt you, even in play."
"You said the senorita's punishment carried partial imprisonment for life."
"A golden prison, senor, for this," he cried, laughing again as he held up the fourth finger of the left hand. "Senorita Sarita Castelar is to be exiled from Spain, never to return; never, never, never. But Lord Glisfoyle's wife, Carlist or not Carlist, will always be able to return," he added, slily, "because Lord Glisfoyle, my Englishman, will always be welcome here. Now do you understand it all?"
"And thank your Majesty from the bottom of my heart," I replied, earnestly.
"Have I kept my word?" he added, almost wistfully.
"As a King should, generously," I said.
"And you forgive me my prank—though you could not guess my riddle?"
"It is a riddle, sire, of which the answer could not be better."
"Then I hope Spain and I will always have one firm friend in England," he said, very seriously, as he put his hand again in mine.
"Till the end of my life, your Majesty;" and taking his hand I was pressing my lips upon it when he checked me.