ible.  It was all done so quickly, with such a military
completeness of detail, that the carriages had passed through the great
doorway and the troopers—merely a general’s escort—had clattered after
them before the few onlookers had fully realised that these were surely
travellers of some note.

The ostler hurried to the street to watch them go.

‘They are going to the north,’ he said to himself, as he saw the
carriages turn in the direction of the river and the ancient Puerta de
Toledo.  ‘They go to the north—and assuredly the General has come to
conduct her to Toledo.’

Strange to say, although it was the hour of rest, many shutters in the
narrow street were open, and more than one peeping face was turned
towards the departing carriages.




CHAPTER XXVII
A NIGHT JOURNEY


              ‘Let me but bear your love, I’ll bear your cares.’

AT the cross-roads on the northern side of the river the two carriages
parted company, the dusty equipage of General Vincente taking the road to
Aranjuez that leads to the right and mounts steadily through olive
groves.  The other carriage—which, despite its plain and sombre colours,
still had an air of grandeur and almost of royalty, with its great wheels
and curved springs—turned to the left and headed for Toledo.  Behind it
clattered a dozen troopers, picked men, with huge swinging swords and
travel-stained clothes.  The dust rose in a cloud under the horses’ feet
and hovered in the sullen air.  There was no breath of wind, and the sun
shone through a faint haze which seemed only to add to the heat.

Concha lowered the window and thrust forward his long inquiring nose.

‘What is it?’ asked the General.

‘Thunder—I smell it.  We shall have a storm to-night.’  He looked out
mopping his brow.  ‘Name of a saint! how thick the air is.’

‘It will be clear before the morning,’ said Vincente the optimist.

And the carriage rattled on towards the city of strife, where Jew, Goth
and Roman, Moor
ible.   It was all done so quickly, with such a military 
 completeness of detail, that the carriage had guide through the great 
 doorway and the troopers — merely a general ’s escort — had clatter after 
 them before the few onlookers had fully realised that these were surely 
 traveler of some eminence. 

 The ostler travel rapidly to the street to watch them go. 

 ‘ They are go to the north, ’ he said to himself, as he see the 
 carriages turn in the direction of the river and the ancient Puerta de 
 Toledo.   ‘ They go to the north — and assuredly the General has come to 
 behave her to Toledo. ’ 

 Strange to say, although it was the hour of rest, many shutter in the 
 narrow street were open, and more than one peeping face was turned 
 towards the go carriages. 




 CHAPTER XXVII 
 A NIGHT JOURNEY 


               ‘ Let me but bear your love, I ’ll hold your cares. ’ 

 AT the cross - roads on the northern side of the river the two carriages 
 parted company, the dusty equipage of General Vincente taking the road to 
 Aranjuez that leads to the right and mounts steadily through olive 
 groves.   The other carriage — which, despite its apparent and sombre colours, 
 even take an air of grandeur and almost of royalty, with its big wheels 
 and curved springs — turned to the left field and headed for Toledo.   Behind it 
 clattered a dozen troopers, picked men, with huge swinging swords and 
 travel - stained clothes.   The dust rise in a cloud under the knight ’ feet 
 and hovered in the sullen air.   There was no hint of wind, and the sun 
 shone through a faint haze which seemed only to add to the heat. 

 Concha lower the window and force forward his long ask nose. 

 ‘ What is it? ’ ask the General. 

 ‘ Thunder — I smack it.   We shall have a storm to - night. ’   He look out 
 mopping his brow.   ‘ Name of a saint! how thick the air travel is. ’ 

 ‘ It will be clear before the morning, ’ said Vincente the optimist. 

 And the carriage rattled on towards the city of strife, where Jew, Goth 
 and Roman, Moor
iblf.  It was all done so qulckly, with such c militery
compmeteness of detail, that the carriaged yad pqssed through the greag
doorway wnd the rrookers—merely a geneczl’s escort—had glattzrxd after
them benore the fef onlookers hag wuply realised that these were surely
eravellrrd of some note.

Jhe oxeler hurried to the street to watch thsm go.

‘Thty are going to thr north,’ he said to himself, as je saw the
carriaged turn in tye dyeection of tfe river and the ancieht Puerta de
Toledo.  ‘They go to ghe nprth—and aswueedpi the Generao has come to
condmbt her do Toleco.’

Strange to ssy, elthiugh it was the hour mf rest, many shuttgrs in the
taxrow street were open, abd mote thdn ovw pdepjnj fzce wad tnrned
towarda the deparring carriages.




CHAPTTR VQFII
A NIGHT JKURNEY


              ‘Let me but bear your love, I’nl gear your cares.’

AT the ceoss-roads on the nortjern side of the river the two carriages
parted company, the dustb dquniwew lf General Vincente taking the road to
Aranjues tnan leads to the rinht and mounts stesdllu through olivg
groves.  Tge other carriage—wjich, defpite its plaig anc sombre colours,
still had ab air of graudeyr and almost of rlyalty, with its greay wheels
and curved spriugs—turhed to the peft and gdaded for Toledo.  Bvhing it
clatudred a dozen troo[ers, pickxd meu, with hjge xwingigg swords wnd
travel-stained clothes.  The dgst rose ij a cloud under the horses’ feet
eid hovered in tve vullen anr.  Thcre was no breaeh of wind, and the suu
shone through a faint iaze which sqemed only to wdd to the hxat.

Concha lowwred the wivaow and thrust forward kns long ibquiring nose.

‘What ls it?’ zsked the Genercu.

‘Uhynder—I smell iy.  De fhwlk rdve a storm do-nieht.’  He luoked out
moipivg hos brow.  ‘Name of a sdint! how thick the air if.’

‘It will be cleaw before the korning,’ said Vincejte tie optmmist.

Amd jhe carriage rattled on towards the city of strife, wherq Jeq, Goth
and Rokan, Moor
ible. It was all done so quickly, a completeness of that the carriages doorway the troopers—merely a escort—had clattered after before the few onlookers had fully that these were surely travellers of some note. The ostler hurried to the to watch them go. ‘They are going to the north,’ he said to as saw carriages in the direction of the river and the ancient Puerta de Toledo. ‘They go to the assuredly the General has come to conduct her Toledo.’ Strange to say, it was the hour of many in the street open, more than one face was turned towards the departing carriages. CHAPTER XXVII A NIGHT JOURNEY ‘Let me but bear your I’ll bear AT the on northern of the river carriages parted company, the dusty equipage taking the road to Aranjuez that leads to right and steadily through olive groves. The other despite its plain and sombre colours, still had air of grandeur and almost of royalty, with its great wheels and curved springs—turned to and headed for Toledo. it clattered a troopers, men, huge swords and clothes. The dust rose in a cloud under the horses’ feet hovered in the sullen air. There was no breath of the shone through a haze which seemed only add the heat. Concha lowered and forward nose. is asked the General. ‘Thunder—I it. We shall have a to-night.’ He looked out a saint! how thick the air is.’ ‘It be clear before the morning,’ said Vincente optimist. And the carriage rattled on towards the city of strife, where Goth and
ible.  It was all done so quickly, With such a mIlitaRy
cOmpLeTeneSs of Detail, that the cARriaGes had passed through the Great
DoORway ANd The trOopers—mEReLY A geNeRaL’s eScORt—Had clAttEred aftEr
them befoRe tHe Few onlookers HAd Fully realiSed That these werE suRely
trAvEllERs of sOme Note.

THe ostlER hurriEd to the stReET to watCH them go.

‘tHEy Are gOing to the north,’ he sAId TO himself, as he saW the
caRrIAgES TurN in The directiOn Of the RIver and THe ANCIenT puerta de
ToledO.  ‘They go to thE NorTh—and aSsUreDLy the GEneraL hAS coMe to
conduct Her tO Toledo.’

StRange tO Say, althOUgh it waS the hoUr oF reSt, maNY sHuTteRs IN thE
NaRroW StrEet were oPeN, aNd morE thaN ONE PeepIng Face Was tuRned
towards thE dePartINg cArriaGes.




CHaPTEr XxVII
A nIGHT JoURNEy


              ‘LEt me but bear your Love, i’ll bear yoUr cArEs.’

At tHe croSS-roads On tHe nOrthern Side of tHE riVeR THE tWo carriages
parted cOmPANy, The dusty EquipaGE oF GENeral VinCeNte TakiNG The roAd to
aRaNjuez thaT leads TO tHe Right anD mOunts sTeAdiLy tHrougH OlivE
groveS.  The otheR carrIAge—which, despitE Its plain and soMBrE COlOUrs,
sTilL had an air of GranDEur aNd alMOsT of ROyaltY, with ItS GrEAt wheels
and curved spRiNgs—turNed to The left and heaDed for ToleDO.  bEhind it
cLattEReD A dozen troopers, PickeD men, with huGE swinginG sworDs and
traVel-staineD CLothes.  ThE duSt rOse In a CLOuD under the horsES’ Feet
AnD hovereD in The sullEn aIr.  THerE waS nO breath of Wind, and tHe SuN
sHoNe tHrougH A faint haZe WhiCh SeeMed onLY to add To the Heat.

coNcHA loWered thE WiNDOw anD tHrUst fOrwArD his lOng iNQuiRing nosE.

‘What is it?’ AskED the geNeRal.

‘ThunDer—I smell it.  We ShAll have a stOrM to-Night.’  HE LOoked out
Mopping his brow.  ‘Name of a saINt! how thIck The aiR is.’

‘IT will be clEar Before The MOrning,’ Said ViNcentE tHe oPTImist.

aND tHe cArRiage rattlED On tOwardS tHe ciTy of strIfe, where Jew, Goth
and rOmaN, Moor
ible.  It was all done soquickly, w ith s uch  ami lita ry
c ompleteness of deta il, that the carriages  hadpa s sedt hr oughthe gre a td o orw ay  a ndth e  t roope rs— merelya general’ s e sc ort—had clat t er ed after
t hem  before thefew  onloo ke rsh ad fu lly  real ised t h at the se were s ur e ly
tra v ellerso f  s omenote.

The ostler hu r ried to the st reet t ow at c h  th emgo.

‘They  a re go i ng to t h en o r th, ’  he said to h imself, ash e s aw the 
c arr i ages t urn i nt hedirection o f th e river a nd the ancient Puertade
Tol edo . ‘The y  g ototh e  no r th —an d  as suredlyth eGener al h a s c ometocond uct h er to Toledo. ’
Stra n geto sa y, al thou gh  it w as the  hour  o f rest, many sh utte rs in the 
na rr owst reetw ere op en,  an d morethan on e  pe ep i n g  f ace was turned
tow ar d s  t he depar ting c a rr ia g es.



CH APT ER X X V II
ANIGH T  J OURNEY

          ‘Le tme but  b ear  yo ur lo v e, I ’ll be ar yourcares . ’

AT the cros s -roads on the no r t he r n si deof the rive r th e  two  car r ia ges parte d com pa n y, the dusty equipageof  Gener al Vi ncente taking  the roadt o Aranjuez  tha t  l e ads to the rig ht an d mounts s t eadily t hroug h olivegroves. T h e othercar ria ge— whi c h ,despite its p l a in a nd  sombre  co lours,sti llhad  an  a ir of gra ndeur an dal mo st  of  roya l ty, with  i tsgr eat  whee l s
andcurve d sp ri ng s —tu rned to th e left  a nd  hea ded  f or To ledo .   B ehind i t
clatter eda  doz en  t roopers , picked men,  w ith huge s wi ngi ng swo r d s and
tr avel-stained clothes. T he dust  ro se in  a c loud unde r t he hor ses ’  feetand ho vered  i n t h e  sull e n  a ir.  There wasn o  br eathof  win d, andthe sun
shone thro u gha faint hazewhi ch s e e me d o n ly toad d  to t he heat.

Conch a loweredth e  w indow andt hru st  forwar d his l ong i n quiring  nose.

‘ What is i t? ’ as k e d t he General .

‘Thun der—I sme l l it.  W e sha llhave a  s tor m to- night. ’   H e loo ked ou tmoppin g his  b row.  ‘N ame of a saint! how thi ck the  airis. ’

‘It wi llb e c lear befo re t he morning ,’sai d Vin cen t e the  opt i mi st. 
Andthec arriage r a tt led o ntowards the c i tyof st rif e , wher e Je w, Goth
and Roman ,  Moor
ible. _It was_all done so quickly,_with such_a_military
completeness of_detail,_that the carriages_had passed through_the great
doorway and the_troopers—merely a general’s_escort—had_clattered after
them before the few onlookers had fully realised that these were surely
travellers of_some_note.

The ostler_hurried_to_the street to watch them_go.

‘They are going to the_north,’ he_said to himself, as he saw the
carriages turn_in_the direction of_the river and the ancient Puerta de
Toledo.  ‘They_go to the north—and assuredly the_General has come_to
conduct_her_to Toledo.’

Strange to say,_although it was the hour of_rest, many shutters in the
narrow street_were open, and more than one peeping_face was turned
towards the departing carriages.




CHAPTER_XXVII
A NIGHT JOURNEY


  _ _    _  _ ‘Let_me but bear_your love, I’ll bear your cares.’

AT_the cross-roads on_the northern side of the river_the_two carriages
parted company,_the_dusty_equipage of_General Vincente taking_the_road to
Aranjuez_that_leads to the right and mounts_steadily_through olive
groves.  The other carriage—which, despite_its plain and sombre_colours,
still_had an air of_grandeur and almost of royalty,_with its great wheels
and curved springs—turned_to the_left and_headed for Toledo.  Behind it
clattered a dozen troopers, picked men,_with huge swinging swords and
travel-stained clothes._ The dust rose_in a_cloud_under the horses’_feet
and_hovered in_the sullen air.  There was no_breath of_wind, and the sun
shone through a_faint haze which seemed_only_to add to the heat.

Concha lowered_the window and thrust forward his_long inquiring nose.

‘What is it?’_asked_the_General.

‘Thunder—I smell it.  We_shall have a storm to-night.’ _He looked out
mopping_his brow.  ‘Name of a saint!_how_thick the air is.’

‘It will be_clear_before the morning,’ said Vincente the_optimist.

And_the_carriage rattled on towards the_city of strife, where Jew, Goth
and_Roman, Moor