"After all, we went to the Cave of Hercules," said Monica, "and to the house where the Moorish n.o.bles were supposed to be murdered; so we missed you when we got to the cathedral. Senorita O'Donnel, do come and help me choose presents for some girls at home, in England."

She spoke brightly, yet wistfully, as if wondering whether she would be allowed to go back to those girls, a girl herself, and able to call England home.

Pilar crossed to her at once, and d.i.c.k and I followed. The good Cherub tactfully engaged the attention of the d.u.c.h.ess and Lady Vale-Avon, looking so innocent that it was more than they could do to be rude to him. And while the Duke sulked, we picked out wonderful knives and forks for our luncheon-hampers, and thin sword-sticks of leather which imitated bamboo and concealed blades so flexible that they could be rolled up like watch-springs.

"Let's all buy presents for each other, in memory of the day," suggested d.i.c.k; and began by offering Pilar a pair of splendid hatpins. She retaliated with sleeve-links; so, emboldened by this prelude, I begged Monica to accept a brooch shaped like a shield. "Now I shall never lack protection," said she, with gentle emphasis; and it was well for me that the Cherub was showing Lady Vale-Avon some marvellous sword pa.s.ses. "Let me see," the girl went on, when she had defiantly pinned the trinket into her lace cravat, under Carmona's furious frown. "What shall I give you for luck? Shall it be a dagger? Where's the one you were looking at, Duke?"

"I don't know," he answered, so angry with me for my presumption that he could hardly speak, though not daring to show his true feelings and imperil his chances. "It seems to have disappeared. But we must really go at once. My mother is tired, and we still have several things to see before I can take you back to the hotel to rest."

Purposely, he spoke in a loud tone, and Lady Vale-Avon heard through the Cherub's honeyed murmurs. She rose, and called Monica, who was swept away without finding the dagger.

It was dinner-time when we returned to our hotel; but Carmona's party did not appear in the dining-room. We lingered on hoping that they would come, until it was useless to hope longer, and as we drank black coffee, in the _patio_, Colonel O'Donnel asked a waiter where were the people who had lunched with us. "They have taken a private sitting-room," replied the man, which was a relief, as I began to be haunted by black fear that Carmona had flitted by night.

By and by Pilar's long lashes drooped, and the Cherub, catching her in the act of stifling a yawn, laughingly ordered her off to bed. "You haven't had enough sleep these last few nights to keep a _cigarron_ alive," said he. Soon afterwards his own eyes began to look like those of a sleepy child, and he excused himself with all the ceremony of Spanish leave-takings. d.i.c.k and I were left alone together, and were discussing what the morrow might bring forth, when a waiter hovered near us, bowing.

"The Excelentisima Senora Duquesa de Carmona would consider it a favour if Senor Waring and Teniente O'Donnel would visit her in her sitting-room,"

he announced.

Were the heavens about to fall? My lifted eyebrows and d.i.c.k's questioned each other in bewilderment. But our lips were silent as we followed the servant.

The sitting-room of the "Excelentisima Senora" was on the first floor, perhaps a big bedroom hastily transformed. What we expected to see as the waiter opened the door I hardly know; but we a.s.suredly did not expect to see the d.u.c.h.ess sitting alone.

The table where the party had dined was covered now by a piece of gaudy, pseudo-Moorish embroidery, and adorned with flowers. A few guide-books and novels were scattered about, and in her hand the d.u.c.h.ess held a paper-covered volume, as if she had been reading. But the expression of the dark, heavy face contradicted her pose. We could see that she was excited.

"Forgive my not rising, as I am tired," she said, as we came in. "It is kind of you to be so prompt, and I thank you." Then she paused, and we waited.

"I beg you to sit down. I want the pleasure of a talk."

We obeyed. And still waited.

"I am a little embarra.s.sed," went on the d.u.c.h.ess. "You must be patient.

What I wish to say is difficult. And yet the Senor Teniente, being himself Spanish, will understand. We are in Spain, the land of formality and rigid etiquette, among people of our cla.s.s. That an automobile with two young unmarried men in it (and even Colonel O'Donnel is a widower, not old)-that such an automobile should be closely following ours which contains a beautiful girl, is calculated to cause gossip. Everywhere we go along this route my son and I have acquaintances, friends; and already there has been talk, which flies from place to place in gossiping letters between women.

I am sure you would not like to think that you had caused me this distress on account of my sweet young guest and her mother?"

Never had I been more completely taken aback. She had us at her mercy; for how is a man to fight against a woman?

"We are motoring in your direction," I said lamely. "The chances of the road bring us together."

"Ah! but I ask you, as a woman of my age may ask a favour of young men like you, senores, not to take those chances. If it is as you say-and of course I believe-that you happen to be motoring on our road, it would be no great hardship to delay and give us a longer start. Remember, it is for the sake of a young girl, and for an old woman's peace of mind. Will you do this kindness, then, for me?"

She had struck me dumb. I did not know how to answer her, and she knew it.

Even d.i.c.k, with his quick Yankee wit, for once was unready. And indeed, the d.u.c.h.ess had us at a hateful disadvantage.

"We are in something of a hurry, Senora Duquesa," I stammered awkwardly.

"Then, rather than cause you loss of time, we will be off very early, and go as far as may be in the day. If we leave at-let us say seven o'clock to-morrow, it would not be too inconvenient for you to wait till nine?

That is all I ask; and to stay the night at Manzanares instead of trying to get on to some other stopping place. If you promise this, you are honourable men, and I know you will keep your word."

She had her lesson well, and had evidently rehea.r.s.ed it with her son, for this lymphatic, weary-eyed woman was not one to know in advance the names of halting places on an automobile tour. It was clever of Carmona to use his mother's plump hand as a cat's-paw to pull his chestnuts from the fire; but it was not brave, because he must know that we could not let it touch the flames.

I thought for a moment in silence. Only boors could in so many words refuse such a request, put with apparent frankness by a woman old enough to be their mother. Yet I must not be trapped into promising anything that could separate me from Monica.

To be near her, at her service always, was the one thing of supreme importance; but to throw aside my sheep's clothing and declare myself a wolf would be to lose her; for the instant that Carmona was sure of my ident.i.ty he would denounce me. I would be sent across the frontier while Monica remained with him, unprotected save by her mother, who was his loyal friend. This was sure to happen, even if I did not count the trouble I might cause Colonel O'Donnel if I were arrested while posing as his son.

It seemed to me that we must agree to do what the d.u.c.h.ess asked, and, while keeping the letter of our promise, take means to see Monica in Seville. There, I must let her know all that had taken place, even if I could not communicate with her before. And I must implore her to come away with me lest some plot had been hatched meanwhile behind my back.

"What do you think, Waring?" I said. Then, giving him a cue, "I feel that we must consent, even though we may not see things according to the d.u.c.h.ess's point of view."

"Why, of course, a man can't refuse a lady; a lady generally knows that,"

d.i.c.k answered, avenging our wrongs with one sharp dig.

She thanked us effusively. "Then I may depend on you?" she asked, looking at me.

"You may depend upon us," I said. "And pray don't trouble to leave at an inconvenient time. My friend and I promise you two hours' start."

XXII

THE LUCK OF THE DREAM-BOOK

It was late, and Monica must have gone to bed, therefore it was impossible to send her a message. Next morning I was up early, and had my coffee and roll on a little table in the _patio_, in the hope of s.n.a.t.c.hing a word with her. But she came down as closely attended by her mother and the d.u.c.h.ess as if she had been a queen, and they her ladies-in-waiting. I had only a chance to say good-bye, as they were ready to drive off; and when I would have added a hasty explanation of our delay, the d.u.c.h.ess began to speak, so that Monica was whisked away without hearing.

"Wicked-old-_cat!_" was Pilar's exclamation when d.i.c.k told her the story of last night's dilemma. But when asked what she would have done in our place, her invention failed; and the Cherub approved our course.

The others had taken full advantage of our generosity, and had not left Toledo till nine. Therefore, according to our contract, we were obliged to wait until eleven, surprising Ropes by our procrastination.

But as we were on the point of spinning away from the hotel, a goat-herd turned the corner at the head of his s.h.a.ggy flock. The man, tanned a dark bronze with constant exposure, wore his rags with the air of a king marching to conquest, and rather than show vulgar curiosity, strode past scarcely deigning a look at the automobile, though it was as likely as not the first he had ever seen. His goats, equally unconcerned, strayed among our wheels without hurry, and when they chose clattered off with much play of little cloven hoofs on cobblestones. A sharper note of contrast could hardly have been struck, d.i.c.k and I said to each other. A meeting between the automobile, latest product of man's restless invention, made to fly across states and continents, and the goat-herd whose knowledge of the world might extend ten miles beyond the place where, since his birth, he had carried on one of the most ancient occupations on the globe. So the ages seemed united, and Virgil and Theocritus brought suddenly face to face with Maeterlinck and Henley; and an instant later we had taken a small excursion into the middle ages of superst.i.tion. Pilar told us gravely that in a volume of "Dreams and Love Lore," valued beyond all other books by the young girls of Andalucia, one read that it brought good luck to lovers to meet a flock of goats when starting on a journey in the morning.

Thus encouraged to hope for what I dared not expect, we set off, again and again finding ourselves hard put to it to get the long cha.s.sis of the Gloria round sharp corners of narrow streets. More than once it could be done only by backing the car, a feat which was witnessed with cries of astonishment by a crowd of water-sellers with painted tin vessels, milkmen on donkey back, knife-grinders, and Murillo cherubs who were following to see us off. Thus attended we slid down the steep hill which twisted past the old fortifications of Toledo, and brought us out at last upon the Puente de Alcantara, that most wonderful bridge of all the world.

The Tagus, grandest river in Spain, and golden as old father Tiber himself, plunged through his narrow gorge a hundred feet below the arch of stone, and on either hand stood up the sun-baked cliffs, Toledo seated on their summit, crowned with towers, like an empress upon her throne. Far beneath, in the swirl of yellow water were Moorish mills, white with age, grinding corn for their new masters.

As we pa.s.sed across the bridge at a foot-pace between strings of ta.s.selled and jingling mules, little grey donkeys loaded with pigskins of wine, brown jugs of olive oil, or bags of meal, and charming children who offered us roses for a _perrilla_, we had our last sight of the cathedral spires. The voice of a young girl, washing white and blue clothing in a trough of running water, sped us upon our journey. Her head was bound in a scarlet handkerchief; and smiling at us while she pounded the linen, she sang a strange song, half chant, with that wild Eastern lilt which has been handed down from the Moors to the sons and daughters of Spain.

"She's improvising a _copla!_" exclaimed Pilar. "Listen; it's for you, brother Cristobal."

So I listened, and heard that my eyes though dark as starless skies, could blaze as the sun with love, and that the blessing of a poor girl who had none to care for her, was upon the rich girl who held the treasure of my heart.

"You must blow her a kiss to pay for the song," Pilar said. "Don't you know that? But then, you haven't been in Spain long-except in your thoughts. That's expected; just as a girl must politely kiss her hand to a bull-fighter if he kisses his to her; for if she doesn't, she puts the evil-eye upon him; and like as not he's gored the next time he goes into the arena. Oh, I love the _coplas_! And wasn't that woman singing in good Spanish? Even the common people speak well here, for Valladolid and Toledo Spanish is the best in Spain."

I looked back and kissed my hand to the girl, who would have been insulted had I thrown money; and lifting my eyes once more to the towering city, I saw a mediaeval background such as old masters love to give their pictures.

The landscape was wild, and unchanged to all appearance from the days when the Crescent and the Cross battled for supremacy on those stony hills and in those savage gorges. Once again, I felt myself a crude anachronism, in my automobile, nor did the impression leave me when Toledo was hidden round a corner; nor when we flashed past ancient Eastern _norias_, slowly turned by sleepy horses or indignant donkeys; nor with glimpses of sentinel watch-towers, or ruined castles-such "castles in Spain" as Don Pedro promised to the Black Prince's soldiers-and seldom gave if they were worth giving.