“Two!” cried the woman, and Over understood both the word and the expression of profound amazement. “Yes, two.” There was no voluble explanation from Catalina. She looked the woman straight in the eyes and repeated, “Two rooms, and quickly, please; we are very tired.” The woman’s eyes were wide with curiosity, but before Catalina’s her tongue lost its audacity. She replied promptly enough, however. “But I have no other. It is only by the grace of God I have this. The train was late, the diligences were put away for the night; there were many, and my house is small. I see now, the señor is the señorita’s brother—but for one night, what matter?” Catalina turned to Over. “There is no other room,” she said. Over went into the apartment, and, lifting a mattress and coverings from one of the beds, returned to the hall and threw them on the floor. “I shall be comfortable here,” he said, curtly, glad of any solution. “Go to bed. I prefer this, anyhow, for I didn’t like the looks of those men down-stairs. Good-night.” “Good-night,” said Catalina, and she went into the room and closed the door. “The English are all mad,” said the woman, and she went to find a candle for the hallway guest. It is doubtful if either Over or Catalina ever slept more soundly, and the bandits, if bandits they were, went elsewhere to forage. At dawn Catalina was dressed and hanging over the balcony watching the retreating stars. She heard a mattress doubled and flung into a corner. The room was in order. She flashed past Over and down the stairs. “Go in and dress,” she called back. “There is plenty of water, for a wonder.” And he answered, “Stay in front of the window, where I could hear you if you called.” Early as it was, the woman and her brood were in the kitchen at the back of the house, and she agreed to supply bread and cream for breakfast and make a tortilla for the travellers’ lunch. Over came down in a few moments with his coffee-pot and lamp, and they had their breakfast on a barrel-top in front of the inn, as light-heartedly as if embarrassment had never beset them. Life begins early in Spain, notwithstanding its reputed predilection for the morrow, and as they finished breakfast several rickety old diligences drew up between the inn and the station.