And it would have been a far more conscience-stricken man than this to have remained unaffected by the gay animation that quickened the very mules. The venders were shrieking their wares; men and women, their hard faces glowing, were fighting their way good-naturedly towards the omnibuses, whose drivers cracked their whips and shouted invitations at so much a head. And then, suddenly, in a corner of the plaza appeared the picadores in their mediæval gorgeousness of attire, astride the ill-fated old nags. It was the signal to start. The picadores wheeled and led the way to the north, the cabs rattled after; then the willing mules were given rein, and, jingling all their bells, plunged down the narrow streets to the high-road, scattering the foot-passengers, who, a motley crowd of men, women, boys, girls, infants in arms, streamed after. On the rough, dusty highway they passed 1000 more trudging towards the Plaza de Toros, eating and drinking as they went. They were come from the surrounding towns, many from Madrid, and even they led children by the hand and carried infants blinking in the strong sunlight. They cheered the picadores, who responded with the lofty courtesy of the mediæval general on his way to the wars. Far below there was not a sign of life on the great vega, nor in the villas on the mountain-slopes. All the little world about seemed to be crowded upon the knotted heights of Toledo. When Catalina and her cavaliers arrived at the Plaza de Toros other crowds were struggling through the entrances, but at the door on the shady side, where tickets were high, there was no one at that moment but the Señora Villéna and her daughter. They went up at once, the Americans and the Englishman as curious to see the crowd as the bull-fight. As the box was Catalina’s she had no difficulty to persuade the Villénas to occupy the front seats; she sat just behind with Captain Over, and in the obscure depths of the rear Mr. Moulton felt himself to be blest indeed. “It seems incredible that they bring children here,” he said, as his untiring gaze roved over the rapidly filling amphitheatre. “No wonder they are callous when they are grown; but I’ll not believe they can see such a sight unmoved at their tender years. I shall watch them with great interest.”