It is at number five, Calle de la Merced, but they will await, E. M."

"And the other carriage that is on the road?" Marcos asked the man. "The
carriage which brings the caballero--has it arrived in Saragossa?"

"Not yet," answered the driver. "I have heard from one who passed them on
the road that they had a second mishap just after leaving the inn of The
Two Trees, where their Excellencies took coffee--a little mishap this
one, which will only delay them an hour or less. He has no luck, that
caballero."

The man looked quite gravely at Marcos, who returned the glance as
solemnly. For they were as brothers, these two, sons of that same mother,
Nature, with whom they loved to deal, fighting her strong winds, her
heat, her cold, her dust and rivers, reading her thousand and one secrets
of the clouds, of night and dawn, which townsmen never know and never
even suspect. They had a silent contempt for the small subtleties of a
man's mind, and were half ashamed of the business on which they were now
engaged.

As the man withdrew in obedience to Marcos' salutation, "Go with God,"
the clock struck twelve.

"Come," said Marcos to his father, "we must go to number five, Calle de
la Merced. Do you know the house?"

"Yes; it is one of the many in Saragossa that stand empty, or are
supposed to stand empty. It is an old religious house which was sacked in
the disturbances of Christina's reign."

He walked to the window as he spoke and looked out.

The house had been thrown open for the first time for many years, and
they now occupied one of the larger rooms looking across the garden to
the Ebro.

"Ah! you have ordered the carriage," he said, seeing the brougham
standing at the door, and the rusty gates thrown open, giving egress to
the Paseo del Ebro.

"Yes," answered Marcos in an odd and restrained voice. "To bring Juanita
back."

CHAPTER XVIII

THE MAKERS OF HISTORY
Number Five Calle de la Merced is to this day an empty house, like many
in Saragossa, presenting to the passer-by a dusty stone face and huge
barred windows over which the spiders have drawn their filmy curtain. For
one reason or another there are many empty houses in the larger cities of
Spain and many historical names have passed away. With them have faded
into oblivion some religious orders and not a few kindred brotherhoods.

Number Five Calle de la Merced has its history like the rest of the
monasteries, and the rounded cobblestones of the l