r. As to the Duchess, her large face was
hidden behind a thick screen of lead-coloured tissue, and I could judge
nothing of her feelings.

When Monica heard the proposal for propelling the grey car through the
drifts, she had the door open in an instant, and would have been out in
the deep snow, if we had not stopped her.

"You must all stay where you are," said Carmona hurriedly, fearing,
perhaps, that some opportunity for a word would be snatched in spite of
him, if I were really Casa Triana. "The weight of three women makes no
difference whatever; isn't that true, senor?" and he turned to Dick, who,
according to our story, was the owner of the red automobile as well as the
host of the party.

Of course Dick agreed, and so did we all, that the ladies were not on any
account to get out. The Duke's chauffeur jumped into his place again, and,
with a twist of the starting handle, the tired motor quivered to its iron
entrails. There was a sudden awaking of carburetor, pistons,
sparking-plugs, valves, trembler, each part which had been resting after
the long pull, striving to obey its master. With a sighing scream of the
gearing, the car stumbled forward and up, our united force pressed into
service. Staggering, plunging, pushing, we gave all the help we could, and
for a few minutes it seemed that with our aid the motor would claw its way
to the highest point.

Our hearts drummed in our breasts, and sent the hot blood jumping to our
heads as if in sympathy with the mighty struggle of the engine. But the
Lecomte's forty horses, and the strength and goodwill of five men--counting
Carmona, who did as little work as he could--were not enough. The wheels
sank to the axles, whizzing round in the snow without propelling the car;
with the motor unable to do its part, we men alone could not do all. The
automobile would not budge for all our pushing; and, seeing that labour
was lost, we stopped to breathe and raise our eyebrows questioningly at
one another. Carmona, alarmed at finding that his chestnuts could not be
pulled out of the fire by any cat's-paws at his service, wondered audibly
what he ought to do.

"Someone who came to Valladolid last night was hauled through the drifts
by oxen," said I. And even as I spoke, like a ram caught in the bushes
ready for the sacrifice, I spied in the white distance the black
silhouette of an enormous ox.

He was not alone, for a more penetrating glance showed that he had a
yoke-fellow a