ey always carried plaid "railway rugs" on their
beasts' backs or their own, and why their trousers and leggings were made
in one piece?

Beyond the olives, black clumps of umbrella pines flung ink-blots against
the sky, and a purple carpet of budding heather was torn apart to let the
road pass through. It was ideal motor-country, and Dick recalled with
sneers the sixty horse-power man in Biarritz, who had feared the
experiment.

"The way is to _do_ what you want to do, and find out as you go along
whether it can be done or not," he soliloquized.

I wondered if he were thinking of another difficult road, not to be
travelled by motors--a road where perhaps Don Cipriano already knew the
way.

Larks sprang skyward from beds of wild flowers as we fled by, little
fountains of music; tall cranes flew out of screening bushes beside bright
streams; and blurring the distance before us, a mist of rain floated like
a veil blown across the face of Spring.

In sight of Carmona's splendid walls and ruined castle, the rain caught
us; and for Pilar's sake we made the car cosey by fastening down the front
glass and filling in the space with drawn canvas curtains.

After this, our fleeting glimpses of pine and palm and olive were dimmed
as we bowled along a sandy road, yellow as beaten gold. Now and again a
patch of purple blossom burning through the mist sang a loud, exultant
note of spring and love; and pretty orange-pickers, in men's jackets and
brown trousers, warbled of the same theme in that soft Andaluza which is
beyond all other languages of passion.

The colour, and the music, and the day went to my head. I knew that I was
young, and I wanted my chance of happiness--wanted it so much that I felt I
could kill a man who dared try to snatch it from me.

XXVI

IN THE PALACE OF THE KINGS

"Now I've something serious to say, Don Ramon," began the Cherub, when we
had passed the first pink-and-white house which marked the suburbs of
Seville. "You mustn't go to an hotel here. It would be dangerous. You must
be our guest; and Senor Waring, too. I feel now as if our little play were
true, and you were my son; while as for Senor Waring, we might have known
him for years, might we not, Pilarcita?"

"Of course. For my part, I'm ready to adopt him for a brother, too,"
replied Pilar.

I covered Dick's recoil at this blow by thanking the Cherub. He was more
than kind, I said, but we co