"I mean Elizabeth, Queen Elizabeth, of course," he burst out. "The Portuguese for Elizabeth is Isabel. It's the same name."
But Miss Kaye-Templeman was already moving towards the cloister doorway. Antonio, suddenly losing his English, turned desperately to young Crowberry.
"You've done it this time," said the youth dolefully.
"Wait here," commanded Antonio, in Portuguese. "Don't follow."
He sprang after the lady and overtook her in the cloister, although she quickened her footsteps at the noise of Antonio's. When she saw that explanations were inevitable, she got in the first word.
"Senhor da Rocha," she said, haughtily, "I am willing—perhaps over willing—to be talked to. But I decline to be talked at. This is your gratitude for my offer of help. As for 'the reign of Isabel,' I am too dull to see the joke; but I can see the insult."
She walked on.
"Hear me one moment, I entreat," cried Antonio. "Have we not, both you and I, enough troubles, solid troubles? I have told you some of mine; and, although I do not know what they are, I can see that you have great sorrows too. For Heaven's sake let us not add to them by needless misunderstandings."
He kept level with her as she walked; but she heard him with averted eyes.
"I swear," he added, "that I was not talking at you. I swear I didn't catch sight of your father's hateful tools till I had finished speaking. As for 'the reign of Isabel,' I am a Portuguese. In Portuguese King Charles is Carlos, King Edward is Duarte, King James is Thiago, Queen Elizabeth is Isabel. Those bottles and tools upset me; and I forgot to translate the name."