ry, and water and wine and
fresh milk of goats when you're thirsty, cool doorways or nice hot
pavements to sleep on when you're tired, with lettuce leaves or a cabbage
for a pillow, all at a cost of a penny or two a day; and if you're clever
somebody passing by will give you that penny. So, rich or poor, with a
palace or no home, you can be happy in Madrid."

"I wonder how you'd like New York?" muttered Dick.

"That depends on the person I lived with!" said Pilar.

Soon we had left the gold and crimson glow of the streets, and were out in
the blue night. Over the Puente de Toledo we passed, and on along a broad
white road.

Pilar had said that we would reach our destination in half an hour; but
her enthusiasm ran faster than our horses; and it was nearly midnight when
we stopped in front of a tall archway that glimmered in the dark. A
clanging bell had to be pulled, and was echoed by a musical baying of many
dogs. "The darlings!" exclaimed Pilar. "I know their voices. It's Melampo,
and Cubillon, and Lubina, the dearest pets of all; named after the dogs
who went with the shepherds to see the Christ-child in His cradle--you
remember--so they can never go mad."

By this time the gate was open, and a wave of beautiful greyhounds surged
round us, although called imperatively back by a man who looked like a
cross between a porter and a gamekeeper. Then came a cordial burst of
recognition between the Cherub, Pilar, and the servant. We drove into a
courtyard, and before we could descend from our carriage the master of the
house had appeared at a lighted doorway, tall, brown, ruddy, picturesque
in Spanish riding breeches and short coat; a handsome man of thirty-five,
perhaps, whose face lit from surprise to rapture at sight of Pilar. Dick
and I came in for a welcome too, though I could see that the Conde de
Roldan was not easy in his mind about these young men who seemed on terms
of intimacy with his friends.

From the courtyard we passed through a doorway into a patio, and from the
_patio_ into a nondescript room which could have belonged to no one but a
bachelor and a sportsman. There was, however, a mother, and the poor lady
would have been torn from her bed to greet the welcome ones, had not the
father and daughter protested. To-morrow, if all went well, they would
come again, and see dear Dona Rosita; but now, let her sleep. We were here
on business.

"May I explain you?" Pilar appealed to me. "Don Cipriano is safe.