ed the attentions of a rich English
traveller. The double marriage took place on the same day and in the
same church. Militona had insisted on making her own wedding dress; it
was a masterpiece, and seemed cut out of the leaves of a lily. It was so
well made, that nobody remarked it. Feliciana's dress was extravagantly
rich. When they came out of church, every body said of Feliciana, "What
a lovely gown!" and, of Militona, "What a charming person!"

Two months had elapsed, and Don Andres de Salcedo and his lady lived in
retirement at a delicious country villa near Granada. With good sense
that equalled her beauty, Militona refused to mix in the society to
which her marriage elevated her, until she should have repaired the
deficiencies of an imperfect education. The departure of a friend for
the Manillas, compelled her husband to visit Cadiz, and she accompanied
him. They found the Gaditanos raving of a torero who performed prodigies
of skill and courage. Such temerity had never before been witnessed. He
gave out that he came from Lima in South America, and was then engaged
at Puerto-de-Santa-Maria. Thither Andre's, who felt his old tauromachian
ardour revive at the report of such prowess, persuaded his wife to
accompany him, and at the appointed hour they took their places in a box
at the circus. On all sides they heard praises of this famous torero.
His incredible feats were in every body's mouth, and all declared that
if he was not killed, he would very soon eclipse the fame of the great
Montes himself.

The fight began, and the torero made his appearance. He was dressed in
black; his vest, garnished with ornaments of silk and jet, had a sombre
richness harmonizing with the wild and almost sinister countenance of
its wearer; a yellow sash was twisted round his meagre person, which
seemed composed solely of bone and muscle. His dark countenance was
traversed by furrows, traced, as it seemed, rather by the hand of care
than by lapse of years; for although youth had disappeared from his
features, middle age had not yet set its stamp upon them. There was
something in the face and figure of the man which Audres thought he
remembered; but he could not call to mind when or where he had seen him.
Militona, on the other hand, did not doubt for an instant. In spite of
his small resemblance to his former self, she at once recognised
Juancho.

The terrible change wrought in so short a time had something that
alarmed her. It pr