"You are right," replied the old man, with all the gravity of a judge, "you must be satisfied at once"; and he looked round for Don Stephano, who was standing more moody than ever behind a giggling group of young peasants. "My son," he said, "go and bring your cousin here. If she refuses, tell her that I particularly wish her to come." "I will go, father," said Stephano, after a second's hesitation; and he went out. There was a slight pause; then shouts and acclamations and rattling of castanets burst forth, as Rosita, with downcast eyes, entered the room, led by Stephano. Well might they welcome with fervour such a charming creature. Rosita was just eighteen. She wore upon her golden brown hair a black lace mantilla, which contrasted with her creamy complexion and the liquid depth of her large brown eyes. A brown velvet bodice showed off to perfection her slight yet rounded figure; and her silk skirts just revealed her pretty ankles and small feet in their silk stockings and neat shoes. Rosita was a native of Navarre. She had quitted Tafalla, her native village, on the death of her father and mother, who had been victims of the Civil War which at this time desolated the country, and had been conducted not without peril to her uncle's house at Panola, in which she had since taken up her abode. "Rosita," said Don Pedro to his niece, taking her hand, "I have made your apologies to your friends for the trick you have played them. It is your turn now to atone for your misdeed, by submitting to an old custom. Among the brave Castilians who surround you there are many suitors for your hand. There must be one among them whom you secretly favour. Your choice is entirely free, and even the favoured one after the ceremony will then have only the right to please you and to merit your hand." "But, uncle----" faltered the young girl. "I will take no denial, my dear," interrupted the old man. Rosita strove in vain to protest, but her imperturbable uncle would not listen, and gave a sign to the peasants to begin the ceremony, in which he seemed to take as keen an interest as they did themselves. Thereupon the majority of the young men, darting furious glances of jealousy at one another, prepared for the contest. Rosita, at her uncle's side, stood at one end of the room. At her right and left were grouped the young peasant girls, admiring without envy the queen of the _fête_, and forming her court. Stephano stood behind with dejected mien. Those with guitars touched their instruments lightly now and then, and upon this scene, worthy of the pencil of Leopold Roberts, the sun, now setting at the horizon, cast a calm and solemn light. The first peasant who came forward was a tall young man, with a ruddy complexion.