ree
minutes before he asked him what he wanted.

That was exactly what Tormillo found it so difficult to explain. His
eyebrows ran up to hide in his hair, his hands crushed his hat into his
chest. "Quien sabe?" he gasped to the company, and Don Luis drained
his glass.

Then he looked at the man. "Well, Tormillo?"

Tormillo shifted his feet. "Ha!" he gasped, "who knows what the
senores may be pleased to say? How am I to know? They ask for an
interview, a short interview in the light of the moon. Two caballeros
in the Campo Grande--ready to oblige your Excellency."

"And who, pray, are these caballeros? And why do they stand in the
Campo?" Don Luis asked in his grandest manner. Tormillo wheedled in
his explanations.

"That which they have to report, Senor Don Luis," he began, craning
forward, whispering, grinning his extreme goodwill--"Oho! it is not
matter for the Cafe. It is matter for the moon, and the shade of
trees. And these caballeros----"

Don Luis paid the hovering Pepe his shot, rose and threw his cloak over
his shoulder. "Follow me," he said, and, saluting the company, walked
into the _plaza_. He crossed it, and entered a narrow street, where
the overhanging houses make a perpetual shade. There he stopped. "Who
are these gentlemen?" he said abruptly. Tormillo seemed to be swimming.

"Worthy men, Senor Don Luis, worthy of confidence. To me they said
little; it is for your grace's ear. They have titles. They are
written across their foreheads. It is not for me to speak. Who am I,
Tormillo, but the slave of your nobility?"

The more he prevaricated, the less Don Luis pursued him. Stiffening
his neck, shrouded in, his cloak, he now stalked stately from street to
street until he came to the Puerta del Carmen, through the battlements
of which the moon could be seen looking coldly upon Valladolid. He was
known to the gatekeeper, who bowed, and opened for him the wicket.

The great space of the Campo Grande lay like a silver pool, traversed
only by the thin shadows of the trees. At the farther end of the
avenue, which leads directly from the gate, two men were standing close
together. Beyond them a little were two horses, one snuffing at the
bare earth, the other with his head thrown up, and ears pricked
forward. Don Luis turned sharply on his follower.

"Guardia Civil?"

"Si, senor, si," whispered Tormillo, and his teeth clattered like
castanets. Don Luis went on without falte