The voice of the commanding officer was now heard prescribing the 61 evolutions. When these were concluded, the troops marched to their quarters, where, gathered in groups, they made their comments upon the beautiful lady of the carriage, some of the soldiers from Arcos declaring that it was Lucia, others, who had not seen her so near, maintaining the contrary. “Her brother will know,” they exclaimed, running to find him. “Lucas, is that grand, fine _You-Madam_ your sister Lucia?” “I don’t know the woman. And now, comrades, no more questions; for I am not a repeating-clock, and am tired of answering.” Before half an hour had passed, an orderly arrived from the general in search of a soldier named Lucas Garcia. Interiorly shaken by the indignation which he would not allow his face to betray, Lucas followed the messenger to a house of good appearance, and was shown into an elegant and luxuriously furnished cabinet. As he entered, a fair young girl robed in silk rose from a sofa, and ran towards him with open arms. “I do not know you, my lady,” said Lucas, quickly repulsing her with his right hand. “Lucas, my brother!” she exclaimed, bursting into tears. “I have no sister,” he replied, in the same tone as before. “Lucas, my own brother, listen, and I will tell you what happened!” At this moment, the colonel--that had been, and was now general--entered. “Ah! Lucia,” said he, with ostentatious condescension, “so, then, you have already seen your brother.” “He will not know me,” sobbed the girl. “How is that?” asked the general, turning toward the soldier. “And why?” “Because it would be a deceit, my general,” answered Lucas, lifting his open hand to his temple. “I am the only one left of my house, and have no sister.” “I sent for you,” proceeded the general, “to make you one of my orderlies, to keep you near me, have you taught to write, and fit you for a career. You will mount rapidly. I know already that you are intelligent and brave.” “I do not wish to learn to write, my general.” “And why?” asked the general, repressing his ill-humor, “since without knowing how to write, you cannot rise?” “I do not want to rise, my general.” “The reason is evident,” said the general, with a mocking laugh. “It is not strange that the heir of such a house should disdain the service of the king.” “He that sees not the king is king to himself,” answered Lucas. “What is there that you want, brother?” asked Lucia. “I desire nothing but to serve my time out and return home.” “But who calls you there, if, as you say, you have no one?” questioned she. “Love for my native place,” he answered. “God give me rest in the soil that gave me birth!” “Valiant goose!” exclaimed the general. Lucas neither opened his lips nor moved an eyelid. “Dearest brother! by our mother’s memory, don’t make as if you did not know me! You break my heart! Stay here.” “It would not suit me to be a stranger anywhere, madam.”