The Archbishop made a gesture of impatience and distrust which was noticed by the stranger. "I was a soldier in my youth," continued he, "but ill-health compelled me to leave the ardous profession of arms and return to Castille, the land of my birth, where I dedicated myself to the study of architecture, theoretical and practical." "I regret," replied the Archbishop, "that you are unable to mention any work of skill that you have carried out." "There are some erections on the Tormes and the Duero of which others have the credit, but which ought to honour him who now addresses you." "I do not understand you." "I was poor and obscure," rejoined Juan de Arèvalo, "and I sought only to earn bread and shelter. Glory I left to others." "I deeply regret," replied Don Pedro Tenorio, "that you have no means of assuring us that we should not trust in you in vain." "My lord, I can offer you one guarantee which I trust will satisfy your Eminence." "What is that?" "My life!" "Explain yourself." [Illustration: "EXPLAIN YOURSELF."] "When the framework of the centre arch shall be removed, I, the architect, will stand upon the keystone. Should the bridge fall, I shall perish with it." "I accept the guarantee." "My lord, trust me, and I will carry out the work!" The Archbishop pressed the hand of the architect, and Juan de Arèvalo departed, his heart full of joyous expectation. His wife was anxiously awaiting his return. She was young and handsome still, despite the ravages of want and suffering. "Catherine! my Catherine!" cried the architect, clasping his wife to his arms, "amid the monuments that embellish Toledo there will be one to transmit to posterity the name of Juan de Arèvalo!" III. Time passed. No longer could the Toledans say, on approaching the Tagus across the rugged cliffs and solitary places where in former times stood the Garden of Florinda, "Here once stood the bridge of San Martin." Though the new bridge was still supported by solid scaffolding and massive frames, yet the centre arch already rose to view, and the whole was firmly planted on the ruins of the former. The Archbishop, Don Pedro Tenorio, and the Toledans were heaping gifts and praises on the fortunate architect whose skill had joined the central arch, despite the furious power of the surging currents, and who had completed the gigantic work with consummate daring.