 in his lonely apartment sat and
wondered what he should do next.  He had dealt with justice all his life,
and had ensued it not from love, but as a matter of convenience and a
means of livelihood.  From the mere habit, he now desired to do justice
to Conyngham.

‘See if you can find out for me the whereabouts of General Vincente at
the moment, and let the carriage wait,’ he said to his servant, a
valet-courier of taciturn habit.

The man was absent about half an hour, and returned with a face that
promised little.

‘There is a man in the hotel, sir,’ he said, ‘the servant of Mr.
Conyngham, who knows, but will not tell me.  I am told, however, that a
lady living in Toledo, a Contessa Barenna, will undoubtedly have the
information.  General Vincente was lately in Madrid, but his movements
are so rapid and uncertain, that he has become a by-word in Spain.’

‘So I understand.  I will call on this Contessa this afternoon, unless
you can get the information elsewhere during the morning.  I shall not
want the carriage.’

Sir John walked slowly to the window, deep in thought.  He was interested
in Conyngham, despite himself.  It is possible that he had not hitherto
met a man capable of so far forgetting his own interests as to undertake
a foolish and dangerous escapade without anything in the nature of gain
or advantage to recommend it.  The windows of the hotel of the Comercio
in Toledo look out upon the market-place, and Sir John, who was an indoor
man, and mentally active enough to be intensely bored at times,
frequently used this opportunity of studying Spanish life.

He was looking idly through the vile panes, when an old priest passed by,
and glanced up beneath shaggy brows.

‘Seen that man before,’ said Sir John.

‘Ah!’ muttered Father Concha, as he hurried on towards the Palazzo
Barenna.  ‘So far, so good.  Where the fox is, will be found the stolen
fowl.’

Concepçion Vara, who was saddling his horse in the stable yard of the
in his lonely apartment sat and 
 wondered what he should do next.   He had deal with judge all his life, 
 and had ensued it not from love, but as a topic of convenience and a 
 means of livelihood.   From the bare substance abuse, he now desired to do justice 
 to Conyngham. 

 ‘ See if you can witness out for me the whereabouts of General Vincente at 
 the moment, and let the carriage wait, ’ he said to his servant, a 
 valet - messenger of taciturn habit. 

 The man was absent about half an hour, and render with a face that 
 promised small. 

 ‘ There is a serviceman in the hotel, sir, ’ he said, ‘ the servant of Mr. 
 Conyngham, who knows, but will not tell me.   I am told, however, that a 
 dame living in Toledo, a Contessa Barenna, will undoubtedly have the 
 information.   General Vincente was lately in Madrid, but his movements 
 are so rapid and unsealed, that he has become a by - word in Spain. ’ 

 ‘ So I understand.   I will call on this Contessa this afternoon, unless 
 you can get the information elsewhere during the morning.   I shall not 
 want the carriage. ’ 

 Sir John walk slowly to the window, abstruse in opinion.   He was interested 
 in Conyngham, despite himself.   It is possible that he had not hitherto 
 met a valet capable of so far forgetting his own interests as to contract 
 a foolish and dangerous escapade without anything in the nature of gain 
 or advantage to recommend it.   The windows of the hotel of the Comercio 
 in Toledo look out upon the market - place, and Sir John, who was an indoor 
 man, and mentally active enough to be intensely bored at times, 
 frequently used this opportunity of study Spanish animation. 

 He was looking idly through the vile panes, when an old priest passed by, 
 and glance up beneath shaggy brows. 

 ‘ Seen that valet before, ’ said Sir John. 

 ‘ Ah! ’ muttered Father Concha, as he hurried on towards the Palazzo 
 Barenna.   ‘ indeed far, so dependable.   Where the fox is, will be found the steal 
 fowl. ’ 

 Concepçion Vara, who was saddle his horse in the static yard of the
 in his lonely apartment sau and
wondered whaj ye shonld do hext.  He had dealt with justice all iis oife,
abd had ensued it not ffom love, hut as a matuer of conveniencx and a
mccns or livzlmhood.  From the mere habid, he now desirad tl do justice
to Conyngham.

‘See if you san finc lut for me the whegewboufs of General Vincente at
the momenf, and ltt the carriage waot,’ he said to his servant, w
valft-courier of tacitkrn habit.

Thg mag was absent xbout half an hour, and returned with a face that
promired lnttle.

‘There us a ldn in the hitel, fir,’ he said, ‘bne sereant of Mr.
Conyngham, wmo knmws, but will not tell me.  I am told, howevet, that a
lagy living in Toledo, a Contgssa Tarevba, dilm nndkubtedpy iave the
infkrmation.  Gwneral Vincente was lwnrly in Madris, but rif movements
are so rapid and uncertain, tvat he has become a by-word in Spain.’

‘So I understwnd.  I wijl call on this Contessa this afternoon, unless
you can jeg tkc kbflrmation elsewhere during the morning.  I shalj npt
eant the carricge.’

Sir John walkrd skjwly to the wkndow, bsel in thought.  He wws intetested
un Conyngram, cespite himself.  It is possuble that he yad not hitherto
mec a man capayle of so fsr forgetting his own iuteresfs as to unfertake
a ruolish and dangefoux ascapade without anything yn the navure pf gain
ur acvantade to recolmend it.  The windows of the kotel of the Colercio
in Toledo look out upon tix market-place, atd Vir John, who eas an indoor
ian, and mentalky actire enojgh to be pntensely bored at tymes,
frequentlf used this o'portunitr of stueying Soxnish life.

He wss lookiny idlt through the vile pavss, when an old 'xitsr passed by,
and glxncqd u' benqdth shaggy bsows.

‘Reev that man before,’ raid Sir John.

‘Ah!’ muttered Fatger Concha, as he hirvied on tiwards tre Palazzo
Barrnna.  ‘So far, so gold.  Wiere tie fox is, will be found the stolen
fowl.’

Ckncepçion Garw, who was saqdlikg hys horse iu the stable yard of the
in his lonely apartment sat and wondered should next. He dealt with justice ensued not from love, as a matter convenience and a means of livelihood. the mere habit, he now desired to do justice to Conyngham. ‘See if can find out for me the whereabouts of General Vincente at the moment, let carriage he to his servant, a valet-courier of taciturn habit. The man was absent about half an hour, returned with a face that promised little. ‘There a man in the sir,’ he said, ‘the servant Mr. who knows, will tell I am told, that a lady living in Toledo, a Contessa Barenna, will undoubtedly have the information. General Vincente was in Madrid, movements are rapid uncertain, he has become in Spain.’ ‘So I understand. I this Contessa this afternoon, unless you can get information elsewhere the morning. I shall not want carriage.’ Sir John walked slowly to the window, in thought. He was interested in Conyngham, despite himself. It is possible that he had met a man capable so far forgetting own as undertake foolish and escapade without anything in the nature of gain or advantage to it. The windows of the hotel of the Comercio in out the market-place, and John, who was an man, mentally active enough to bored times, opportunity studying life. He was looking through the vile panes, when old priest passed by, brows. ‘Seen that man before,’ said Sir John. muttered Father Concha, as he hurried on the Palazzo Barenna. ‘So far, so good. Where the fox is, will found the Concepçion Vara, who was saddling his horse in stable yard of the
 in his lonely apartment sat anD
wondered wHat he ShoUld Do Next.  he haD dealt with justICe alL his life,
and had ensued it Not frOm LOve, bUT aS a matTer of coNVeNIEncE aNd A
meAnS Of LivelIhoOd.  From tHe mere habiT, he NoW desired to do JUsTice
to ConyNghAm.

‘See if you caN fiNd out fOr Me tHE wherEabOuts oF GenerAL VinceNte at
the mOmENt, and lET the carRIAgE waiT,’ he said to his servaNT, a
VAlet-courier of tAciturN hABiT.

tHe mAn wAs absent abOuT half AN hour, anD ReTURNed WIth a face that
pRomised littLE.

‘ThEre is a MaN in THe hoteL, sir,’ hE sAId, ‘tHe servant of mr.
CoNyngham, whO knows, BUt will nOT tell me.  i am tolD, hoWevEr, thAT a
LaDy lIvINg iN toLedO, A CoNtessa BaReNnA, will UndoUBTEDly hAve The
iNformAtion.  General VIncEnte WAs lAtely In MadRid, bUt His moVementS
are sO rApid and uncertaiN, thaT he has becOme A bY-woRd In SpaIN.’

‘So I unDerStaNd.  I will Call on tHIs COnTESSa This afternoon, unlesS
yOU CaN get the iNformaTIoN eLSewhere dUrIng The mORNing.  I ShalL NoT
want the CarriaGE.’

SIr john walKeD slowlY tO thE wiNdow, dEEp in ThoughT.  He was inTeresTEd
in Conyngham, dESpite himself.  IT Is POSsIBle tHat He had not hitHertO
Met a Man cAPaBle OF so faR forgEtTInG His own interests as to UnDertakE
a fooLish and dangerOus escapadE WIThout anyThinG In THe nature of gain
Or advAntage to reCOmmend it.  the wiNdows of tHe hotel of THE ComerciO
in tolEdo LooK OUt Upon the market-PLAce, aNd sir John, Who Was an inDooR
maN, anD meNtAlly activE enough tO bE iNtEnSelY boreD At times,
fReQueNtLy uSed thIS opporTunitY of sTuDyINg SPanish lIFe.

hE Was lOoKiNg idLy tHrOugh tHe viLE paNes, when An old prieSt pASsed By,
AnD glanceD up beneath shaGgY brows.

‘Seen ThAt mAn befoRE,’ Said Sir JOhn.

‘Ah!’ muttered Father ConcHA, as he huRriEd on tOwarDs the PalaZzo
barennA.  ‘So FAr, so goOd.  WherE the fOx Is, wILL be foUND tHe sToLen
fowl.’

ConCEPçiOn VarA, wHo waS saddliNg his horse in the staBLe yArd of the
 in his lonely apartment s at and
won dered  wh athe  sho ulddo next.  He h a d de alt with justice all h is li fe , 
and ha d ens ued itn ot f rom  l ov e,bu t  a s a m att er of c onvenience  an da
means of l i ve lihood.  F rom  the mere ha bit , he n ow  de s iredtodo ju sticet o Cony ngham.

‘ Se e  if yo u  can fi n d  o ut f or me the whereab o ut s  of General Vi ncente  a t 
t h e  mo men t, and let  t he ca r riage w a it , ’ hes aid to his se rvant, a
va l et- courie roft acitur n hab it . 

T he man wasabse nt abouthalf a n  hour,a nd retu rned w ith  aface th at 
pr om i sed li ttl e .
‘There i saman i n th e h o tel,  si r,’he sa id, ‘the serv ant  ofM r.Conyn gham,  who  k nows,  but w ill n ot  tell me.  I am  tol d, howeve r,th ataladyl ivinginTol edo, aContess a  Ba re n n a ,will undoubtedly h av e th e
inform ation.  G en e ral Vinc en tewasl a telyin M a dr id, buthis mo v em en ts
areso  rapid  a ndunc ertai n , th at hehas beco me ab y-word in Spai n .’

‘So I und e rs t a nd .   Iwil l call on t hisC onte ssat hi s a f terno on, u nl e ss you can get the inf or mation  else where duringthe mornin g .  I shall  not wa n t the carriage .’

S ir John wa l ked slow ly to  the win dow, deep i n though t. He  wa s i n t er ested
in Cony n g ham,  d espitehim self. Itispos sib le  that hehad nothi th er to 
me t a m a n capabl eofso  fa r for g etting  hisownin te r est s as to un d e rtak eafool ish  a nd da nger o usescapad e without  an y thin gin  the na ture of gainor  advantage  t o r ecomme n d  it.  Th e windows of the hotelo f the C ome rcioin T oledo loo k o ut upo n t h e mark et-pla ce, a nd  Si r John, w ho  wa san indoorm a n,and m en tall y activ e enough to be int e nse ly bored at t ime s,
f r e qu ent l yu sed  t h iso p portunity of st udying Spa ni s hlife.

Hew aslo oking i dly thr ought he vile  panes, w hen an ol dprie s t  pa ssed by,
a nd glanc ed up ben e ath s h ag gy br ows .

‘Se en  th at ma n befo r e,’  said  Sir J oh n.

‘A h!’ m ut tered Fa ther Concha, as he hurr ied on  towa rds  the Pala zzo Bar enna.  ‘S o fa r, so good . Whe re th e f o x is,  wil l  b e f o und t he s t olen
fowl . ’
Co n c ep çion Vara,w h o  wa s sad dli n g hishors e in the stable y a rd of the
 in_his lonely_apartment sat and
wondered what_he should_do_next. _He_had dealt with_justice all his_life,
and had ensued it_not from love,_but_as a matter of convenience and a
means of livelihood.  From the mere habit,_he_now desired_to_do_justice
to Conyngham.

‘See if you can_find out for me the_whereabouts of_General Vincente at
the moment, and let the carriage_wait,’_he said to_his servant, a
valet-courier of taciturn habit.

The man was absent_about half an hour, and returned_with a face_that
promised_little.

‘There_is a man in_the hotel, sir,’ he said, ‘the_servant of Mr.
Conyngham, who knows, but_will not tell me.  I am_told, however, that a
lady living in_Toledo, a Contessa Barenna, will_undoubtedly have_the
information.  General Vincente was_lately in Madrid,_but his_movements
are so rapid_and uncertain, that he has become_a by-word in_Spain.’

‘So I understand.  I will_call_on this Contessa_this_afternoon,_unless
you can_get the information_elsewhere_during the_morning._ I shall not
want the carriage.’

Sir_John_walked slowly to the window, deep in_thought.  He was_interested
in_Conyngham, despite himself. _It is possible that he_had not hitherto
met a man capable_of so_far forgetting_his own interests as to undertake
a foolish and dangerous escapade without_anything in the nature of gain
or_advantage to recommend it._ The_windows_of the hotel_of_the Comercio
in_Toledo look out upon the market-place, and_Sir John,_who was an indoor
man, and mentally_active enough to be_intensely_bored at times,
frequently used this opportunity_of studying Spanish life.

He was looking_idly through the vile panes,_when_an_old priest passed by,
and glanced_up beneath shaggy brows.

‘Seen that man_before,’ said Sir_John.

‘Ah!’ muttered Father Concha, as he hurried_on_towards the Palazzo
Barenna.  ‘So far,_so_good.  Where the fox is,_will_be_found the stolen
fowl.’

Concepçion Vara, who_was saddling his horse in the_stable yard of the