The Argosy, Vol. XXV, No. 3 — page 66: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

450 THE ARGOSY. She lifted her veil from her face and showed me that the compliment pleased her. ‘“Tt was necessary to pass Ayerbe before dawn, senor. Many ride that road to the city, and they are not all the prince’s friends. But we are among our own people now. And we shall get other horses at Jaca to carry us into the hills. Aueno, there is nothing like a good horse in all the world.”’ She patted the pretty creature she rode affectionately ; and then laughed slyly as though the part she played amused her. But I had made up my mind that she should speak more plainly than she had done hitherto, and of a sudden I seized her bridle rein and brought our horses to a stand. ‘*Giralda,’’ said I, ‘‘ we are going to talk a little while and you are going to tell me many things. I have ridden twelve miles with vou already with- out asking you a single question. Is it fair that I-should go in this way ?”’ She simulated great surprise. ‘* Ay Dios, senor—is it I who ask you?”’ | “* Not at all—the question is mine. It is a very simple question, Giralda. Who is Madame de Gavarnie and who is the man to whom she is sending me ?’’ She did not betray any surprise at the question ; her serious eyes toid me that she was debating it. For a little while we rode on in the darkness, letting our horses amble as they would. Our way lay upward out of the plain to the picturesque glens of the mountains. ‘*Come,’’ continued I, ‘‘do you deny me such a little favor ?’’ ‘‘T deny you nothing, senor. Iam only the servant of the servants. If you would speak of Madame Gavarnie, command me and I will tell you what you wish. She is my friend, and there is no one like her in all Spain. She is your friend too, or you would not be riding with me tonight.’’ ‘“‘T understand that; but there are other things I do not understand. Your friend has a home in Spain, you say?’’ ‘‘She had a home; but the birds build their nests in it now. It was before the war—I am too young to remember that.’’ ‘‘ And her relatives—do they not live in Arragon?’’ - She shook her head. ‘“They come and go like the snow,’’ she exclaimed earnestly ; ‘‘ today; they are here; tomorrow we do not see them. But we wait always, for when they return our king will come also.’”’ I looked at her closely. In that instant I seemed to read the key to the mystery which had sent me from England. ‘(Oh,’’ said I, ‘‘ so you are a little revolutionist, then? And the man to whom you are taking me—does he also wait for the coming of this king ?”’ ‘*Senor, how shall the king wait for the king? Is he not our lord and master? Will he not save Spain and make her great? You do not know or you would not ask me these things.”’ I had never heard in all my life a story which astonished me more. Strange as they were, those few words tore the veil from my eyes and showed me the dark road of danger and conspiracy which, in my folly, a woman had found me so willing to enter. A man who would save Spain! . Eomichbooks (E(@)