The Argosy, Vol. XXV, No. 3 — page 69: what you’re looking at

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

THE PHANTOM ARMY. | 453 The White Hussars passed from our sight, indeed, but the spirit of the night was still upon us. And asI rode, awestruck, at the head of the glen, that spirit filled me with a desire not to be controlled or described. ‘‘The Phantom Army !’’ I said to myself: ‘‘ the horsemen of the mount- ains! I have seen them, then ; and by the God above me, I will join them.’’ CHAPTER VIII.—THE GLEN BELOW TORLA. GIRALDA had not spoken to me from the moment when we first beheld the burning chateau until the last of the white horsemen had disappeared in the hills. The same spirit of awe which possessed me and was not to be resisted, the same delight in that wild scene of daring and of courage, had muted her lips and held her still. She was like a child in an ecstasy of pleasure. And her pleasure remained when the troop had vanished and the frenzied peasants were coming to their senses again. ‘‘ xcellency,’’ she cried, turning to me suddenly, ‘‘ you would wish to go back to Zaragoza now? ’’ I did not answer her question, but put another. ‘The prince you speak of, is this his work ?”’ I pointed to the chateau and to the wind blown fire which enveloped it. So fiercely did it burn that embers of wood and glowing ashes fell almost at our horses’ feet. ‘‘ It is his answer to his enemies,’’ she said quickly. ‘‘ There have been imany beacons in the mountains since the winter; there will be many more when the winter comes again.’’ ‘Your friend is an assassin and a brigand, then ?’’ She pointed to the throng of peasants all huddled together and gibbering on the road before us. ‘“ Hxcellency,’’ she asked, ‘‘ do men bow down and worship the assassin and the brigand ?”’ I had no word for her argument. The strange spectacle I witnessed, the terror of those come out of their beds to see the beacon on the hills, the glit- tering troop of horsemen, sent all my logic to the wind. Curiosity took pos- session of me anew. I must see the man who could work these miracles, must speak to him, know him. ‘‘ Giralda,’’ I said, ‘‘ shall we meet the prince at dawn?” " We have lingered an hour, and must rest at the inn beyond the city. After that it is three leagues, senor. I leave you at the torrent beyond Torla ; my work is done ; you will see me no more.”’ She could play the coquette as no woman I have seen before or since. At any other time, a soldier’s love of an adventure would have set me scheming to detain her in the hills; but the swift events of the night had put such thoughts from me, and we rode on silently and at a canter. Many of the peasants still sat by the roadside, held there by fear and wonder; the hamlet of Jaca itself was awake and humming with tongues. But we pressed on to the inn at the further side of the town and so found the horses my com- panion had spoken of. Here, as in Jaca itself, there was no more sleep for Eomicbooks (S)