When Don Juan reached the age of sixty he went to live in Spain. There, in
his old age, he married a young and charming Andalusian. But he was
intentionally neither a good father nor a good husband. He had observed
that we are never so tenderly loved as by the women to whom we scarcely
give a thought. Doña Elvira, piously reared by an old aunt in the heart of
Andalusia in a castle several leagues from San Lucas, was all devotion and
meekness. Don Juan saw that this young girl was a woman to make a long
fight with a passion before yielding to it, so he hoped to keep from her
any love but his until after his death. It was a serious jest, a game of
chess which he had reserved for his old age.

Warned by his father's mistakes, he determined to make the most trifling
acts of his old age contribute to the success of the drama which was to
take place at his deathbed. Therefore, the greater part of his wealth lay
buried in the cellars of his palace at Ferrara, whither he seldom went.
The rest of his fortune was invested in a life annuity, so that his wife
and children might be interested in keeping him alive. This was a species
of cleverness which his father should have practiced; but this
Machiavellian scheme was unnecessary in his case. Young Philippe
Belvidéro, his son, grew up a Spaniard as conscientiously religious as his
father was impious, on the principle of the proverb: "A miserly father, a
spendthrift son."

The Abbot of San Lucas was selected by Don Juan to direct the consciences
of the Duchess of Belvidéro and of Philippe. This ecclesiastic was a holy
man, of fine carriage, well proportioned, with beautiful black eyes and a
head like Tiberius. He was wearied with fasting, pale and worn, and
continually battling with temptation, like all recluses. The old nobleman
still hoped perhaps to be able to kill a monk before finishing his first
lease of life. But, whether the Abbot was as clever as Don Juan, or