"Yes, yes," the old servant repeated, sadly, "you are the elder son; and yet your brother commands here as master. Since his arrival, it seems as if everything belonged to him already."
The young man let his head sink on his chest, and remained for some minutes crushed; but he soon drew himself up, with flashing eye, and gently laid his hand on the old servant's shoulder.
"Perote," he said to him affectionately, "what is the motto of my family?"
"What do you mean, Excellency?" the manservant asked, startled at the singular question his master asked him.
"You do not remember it," the young man continued, with a smile, as he pointed to an escutcheon over a door. "Well; look, what do you read there?"
"What does your Excellency want?"
"Read—read, I tell you."
"You know that motto better than I do, as it was given to one of your ancestors by King Don Ferdinand of Castile himself."
"Yes, Perote, I know it," he replied, in a firm voice; "and since you will not read it, I will repeat it to you. The motto is: 'Everything for honour, no matter what may happen.' That motto dictates my conduct to me; and be assured, Perote, that I will not fail in what it orders me."
"Oh, your Excellency, once again take care. I am only a poor servant of your family, but I saw you born, and I tremble as to what may happen in the coming interview."