"To blindfold you." "Why?" "Senor, that you may not see whither I conduct you." "Not so!" cried the student suspiciously. "I will follow, but with open eyes." The Gallego threw the skirt of his large cloak over his left shoulder, touched his pointed hat by way of salutation, and said courteously, "_Buenas noches, senor._ May you sleep well, and live a thousand years." "Stop!" cried Federico; "you are mad. Whither away?" "Home." "Without me?" "Without you, senor. The truth is, you are wanted blind, or not at all." The result of the colloquy that ensued was, that the Gallego twisted his cloth thrice round the student's eyes, ears, and nose, and led him carefully across the Plaza, down a street and round sundry corners and turnings, till at last he deposited him in a carriage, which instantly set off at a rapid pace. After a tolerably long drive, by no means a pleasant one for our adventurer, whose guide held his hands firmly in his--probably to prevent his removing the bandage--the coach stopped, the two men got out, and Federico was again conducted for some distance on foot. He knew that he was still in Madrid, for he walked over pavement, and in spite of the thick cloth that impeded his hearing, he could distinguish the distant sound of carriages and hum of life. Presently a door creaked, and he apparently entered a garden, for there was a smell of flowers and a rustling of leaves; then he ascended a staircase, and was conducted through cool lofty apartments, and through doors which seemed to open and shut of themselves. Suddenly his companion let go his hand. Federico stood for a minute in silent expectation, then, groping around him with extended arms, he said in a low voice--"Am I at my journey's end? Answer!" But nobody replied.