Adventure stories; British -- Spain -- Fiction; Love stories; Spain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
The truth of this reference to her incongruous dress became more
apparent when the dawn broke and lightened. I had not given it a thought
while we were at Calvarro’s, nor while the darkness made the matter of
costume a thing of no importance; but in the daylight it was altogether
different. Still, as riding habits didn’t grow on Spanish hills, there
was nothing to do but to make the best of it, and get a change of dress
at the first available opportunity. After all, there was that
well-known excuse to fall back upon—the eccentricity of the English
traveller.
I left Sarita almost entirely to her own thoughts, and for some hours we
scarcely spoke to each other, until, as I had dismounted and was leading
my horse up a hill by her side, she looked down and said with a smile:
"You are very good to me, Ferdinand, and very thoughtful for me. I
cannot bear to speak much yet."
"That’s all right. We shall have many years of chatter to make up for a
few hours’ silence," I answered, cheeringly. "I can guess pretty well
how it is with you. Don’t worry. Let’s get out of this mess and we’ll
have all the more to talk about. What a young brick that Juan is. I
don’t know what we should have done without him. He’ll pull us through
yet," and it really began to look as though he would, for we were within
a mile or two of Calatayud.
"And do I owe nothing to you?"
"We won’t shout till we are out of the wood. But here we are at the top
of the hill, and forward’s the word again;" and soon after that we came
in sight of Calatayud nestling down in the valley a good way below us,
the smoke from a few early fires curling up lazily in the breezeless
air.
"Thank God, there’s the railway," I said, pointing to where a sinuous
line of white steam marked the course of a train just leaving the
station on its way to Madrid. Then I called Juan back. "I am not going
to your grandfather’s if I can help it, Juan. I have reason to know it
will be dangerous. Is there a Royalist house in the place?"
"Yes, senor, there is Angostino’s. But if there are any soldiers in the
town they are sure to be there."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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