ave a deep sigh and let her arms
fall like one that was ill and weak. The attendants on foot then led the
horses away to the stable. Observing this the curate, curious to know who
these people in such a dress and preserving such silence were, went to
where the servants were standing and put the question to one of them, who
answered him.

"Faith, sir, I cannot tell you who they are, I only know they seem to be
people of distinction, particularly he who advanced to take the lady you
saw in his arms; and I say so because all the rest show him respect, and
nothing is done except what he directs and orders."

"And the lady, who is she?" asked the curate.

"That I cannot tell you either," said the servant, "for I have not seen
her face all the way: I have indeed heard her sigh many times and utter
such groans that she seems to be giving up the ghost every time; but it
is no wonder if we do not know more than we have told you, as my comrade
and I have only been in their company two days, for having met us on the
road they begged and persuaded us to accompany them to Andalusia,
promising to pay us well."

"And have you heard any of them called by his name?" asked the curate.

"No, indeed," replied the servant; "they all preserve a marvellous
silence on the road, for not a sound is to be heard among them except the
poor lady's sighs and sobs, which make us pity her; and we feel sure that
wherever it is she is going, it is against her will, and as far as one
can judge from her dress she is a nun or, what is more likely, about to
become one; and perhaps it is because taking the vows is not of her own
free will, that she is so unhappy as she seems to be."

"That may well be," said the curate, and leaving them he returned to
where Dorothea was, who, hearing the veiled lady sigh, moved by natural
compassion drew near to her and said, "What are you suffering from,
senora? If it be anything that women are accustomed and know how to
relieve, I offer you my services with all my heart."

To this the unhappy lady made no reply; and though Dorothea repeated her
offers more earnestly she still kept silence, until the gentleman with
the veil, who, the servant said, was obeyed by the rest, approached and
said to Dorothea, "Do not give yourself the trouble, senora, of making
any offers to that woman, for it is her way to give no thanks for
anything that is done for her; and do not try to make her answer unless
you want to hear some lie f