rse all the way from the Volga to the Seine, and the good
Czar Alexander himself gave him the medal with 'Not unto us, but unto
Thy Name be the praise'? Our father the Czar does not think so little of
us and our horses as you do, young lady."
"I beg your pardon," said Lucy; "I did not know what your horses could
do."
"Oh, you did not! That is some excuse for you. I'll show you."
And in one moment he was on the back of his little horse, leaning down
on its neck, and galloping off over the green plain like the wind; but
it seemed to Lucy as if she had only just watched him out of sight on
one side before he was close to her on the other, having whirled round
and cantered close up to her while she was looking the other way. "Come
up with me," he said; and in one moment she had been swept up before him
on the little horse's neck, and was flying so wildly over the Steppes
that her breath and sense failed her, and she knew no more till she was
safe by Mrs. Bunker's fireside again.
CHAPTER XIII.
SPAIN.
"SUPPOSE and suppose I go to sleep again; what should I like to see
next? A sunny place, I think, where there is sea to look at. Shall it be
Spain, and shall it be among the poor people? Well, I think I should
like to be where there is a little lady girl. I hope they are not all as
lazy and conceited as the Chinese and the Turk."
So Lucy awoke in a large cool room with a marble floor and heavy
curtains, but with little furniture except one table, and a row of
chairs ranged along the wall. It had two windows, one looking out into
a garden,--such a garden!--orange-trees with shining leaves and green
and golden fruit and white flowers, and jasmines, and great lilies
standing round about a marble court, in the midst of which was a basin
of red marble, where a fountain was playing, making a delicious
splashing; and out beyond these sparkled in the sun the loveliest and
most delicious of blue seas--the same blue sea, indeed, that Lucy had
seen in her Italian visit.
That window was empty; but the other, which looked out into the street,
had cushions laid on the sill, an open-work stone ledge beyond, and
little looking-glasses on either side; and leaning over this sill there
was seated a little maiden in a white frock, but with a black lace veil
fastened by a rose into her jet-black hair, and the daintiest,
prettiest-shaped little feet imaginable in white satin shoes, which
could be plainly seen as she knelt on
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