rst in
Spain. But the fastidious in Manvers was awake and edgy. He had not
liked the bull-fight; so Gil Perez kept out of the arena. "I see one
very grand old gentleman there, master," was one of his chance casts.
"You see 'im? 'E grandee of Espain, too much poor, proud all the same.
Put 'is 'at on so soon the Queen come in--Don Luis Ramonez de Alavia."

"Who's he?" asked Manvers.

"Great gentleman of Valladolid," said Gil Perez. "Grandee of
Espain--no money--only pride." He did not add, as he might, that he
had seen Manuela, or was pretty sure that he had. That was delicate
ground.

But Manvers, who had forgotten all about her, went cheerfully his ways,
and amused himself in his desultory fashion. After the close-pent
streets of Segovia, where the wayfarer seems throttled by the houses,
and one looks up for light and pants towards the stars and the air, he
was pleased by the breadth of Madrid. The Puerto del Sol was
magnificent--like a lake; the Alcala and San Geronimo were noble
rivers, feeding it. He liked them at dawn when the hose-pipe had been
newly at work and these great spaces of emptiness lay gleaming in the
mild sunlight, exhaling freshness like that of dewy lawns. When, under
the glare of noon, they lay slumbrous, they were impressive by their
prodigality of width and scope; in the bustle and hum of dusk, with the
cafes filling, and spilling over on to the pavements, he could not tire
of them; but at night, the mystery of their magic enthralled him. How
could one sleep in such a city? The Puerto del Sol was then a sea of
dark fringed with shores of bright light. The two huge feeders of
it--with what argosies they teemed! Shrouded craft!

[Illustration: Madrid by night.]

That touch of the East, which you can never miss in Spain, wherever you
may be, was unmistakable in Madrid, in spite of Court and commerce, in
spite of newspaper, Stock Exchange, or Cortes. The cloaked figures
moved silently, swiftly, seldom in pairs, without speech, with footfall
scarcely audible. Now and again Manvers heard the throb of a guitar,
now and again, with sudden clamour, the clack of castanets. But such
noises stopped on the instant, and the traffic was resumed--whatever it
was--secret, swift, impenetrable business.

For the most part this traffic of the night was conducted by men--young
or old, as may be. The _capa_ hid them all, kept their semblance as
secret as their affairs. Here and there, but rar