dangerous--A small grievance--The reeds by the river--Cry of the
watchmen--Hare and hounds--Fair Rosamund--Jacob's ladder--New
rendering to old proverbs--Cathedral by night--H. C.
oblivious--Scent fails--Return to earth--Romantic story--Last of a
long line--_El Sereno!_--The witching hour--H. C. unserenaded--Next
morning--Grey skies--A false prophet--Magic picture--Cathedral by
day--Mediaeval dreams.

Dinner ended we went to our rooms preparatory to investigating the town.
These rooms were only reached through a labyrinth of passages, and to
the last hour we were always taking wrong turnings. H. C. had the organ
of locality as well as the gift of rhyme, and we often had to summon him
from some distant chamber to the rescue; vainly remarking that it was a
little hard all the talents should have fallen to his share. He would
condescendingly reply that we must be thankful for small mercies; adding
with great modesty that all his talents and graces, far beyond our ken,
were counterbalanced by a feeling of tremendous responsibility.

We left the hotel with all our curiosity awakened. It was very dark. No
stars were shining; a small aneroid indicated rain. Where we came to
openings in the streets, the sky above was lighted with a lurid glare,
reflection of the countless torches in the fair. Our own street was in
comparative darkness.

Sauntering down whither fate would lead us, we came to some splendid
arcades, deep, massive and solemn. Few towns in Spain possess such
arcades as Gerona; so exceedingly picturesque and substantially built
that time may mellow but hardly destroy them. To-night they were not
quite impenetrable; a little of the glare from the sky or the fair--the
latter unseen but near at hand--seemed to faintly light their obscurity
and add mystery to the finely-arched outlines. They were deserted, not a
creature was visible, the shops were closed. There is no time like night
and darkness for solemn outlines and impressions.

[Illustration: ARCADES: GERONA.]

A few steps farther on and we suddenly burst upon the full glory of the
fair. Not the glory of the sun or moon, but of smoking torchlights and
lurid flames carried hither and thither by the wind. We traced them far
as the eye could reach. The houses, with their quaint outlines and iron
balconies shadowed by the waving trees, stood out vividly. A double
stream of people sauntered to and fro, treading upon each other's hee