I was a little abashed at my reception by them, and disposed to rebuke her excess of zeal; but she only laughed and said:— "You ought to thank me for my moderation, indeed, for I was sorely tempted to say you were the Ambassador himself. But we shall get through all right as it is." *CHAPTER XI* *"THE WAYS OF THE CARLISTS WILL BE HARD."* There is no necessity to dwell upon the incidents of that memorable journey to Madrid. As Mrs. Curwen had said, "we got through all right." We were, indeed, treated with as much consideration during the whole journey as if we had been personages of the most illustrious distinction, and I found that her agents had contrived in some way to have telegrams despatched to all points, advising the officials everywhere on the route to pay particular heed to our special, and to forward it by all available means. That we were a very distinguished party no one doubted, and Mercy was so excited by the results at different places and so exhilarated by the change of scene and by her friend’s vivacity and high spirits, that the roses began to come back to her pale cheeks, her nerves toughened with every mile, and before we left Paris she was laughing with something of her usual lightheartedness. During the journey, Mrs. Curwen declared that as she was going out on business and I was going to help her, we had better discuss the matter fully. As I had looked upon the story of the silver mine as an ingenious fable, designed only to be a cover for her visit to Madrid, I was surprised when she put into my hands a quantity of papers having reference to the subject, and begged me to study them. "Shall we leave them until you think seriously of the thing?" I asked, with a smile, having, in truth, little taste for the business. "Seriously? Why, I was never more serious in my life. If what I’m told is true, there’s a big fortune in it. What do you think I’m going there for?" "To see Madrid and give Mercy a treat." Mercy laughed and glanced at her friend, who coloured very slightly. "Partly that, and partly, too, to be there when there’s someone I know there—and that’s you. But I am also in earnest about this." "Then I’ll read the papers with pleasure," said I, and without more ado I plunged into them, and almost at the outset made a discovery which caused deep surprise and excited my keenest interest. The land on which the silver mine was said to exist was being offered by Sebastian Quesada, and it formed a part of the property which had belonged to Sarita Quesada—my Sarita’s mother. In other words it belonged by right to Sarita and Ramon Castelar, and formed a portion of the estate the very existence of which Quesada had denied to me.