. The
glittering stars and the soft moonlight lit up a charming valley that
unfolded all its beauties at his feet. Leaning against a blossoming
orange-tree he could see, a hundred feet below him, the town of Menda,
which seemed to have been placed for shelter from the north winds at the
foot of the rock on which the castle was built.

As he turned his head he could see the sea, framing the landscape with a
broad silver sheet of glistening water. The castle was a blaze of light.
The mirth and movement of a ball, the music of the orchestra, the laughter
of the officers and their partners in the dance, were borne to him mingled
with the distant murmur of the waves. The freshness of the night imparted
a sort of energy to his limbs, weary with the heat of the day.

Above all, the gardens were planted with trees so aromatic, and flowers so
fragrant, that the young man stood plunged, as it were, in a bath of
perfumes.

The castle of Menda belonged to a Spanish grandee, then living there with
his family. During the whole of the evening his eldest daughter had looked
at the officer with an interest so tinged with sadness that the sentiment
of compassion thus expressed by the Spaniard might well call up a reverie
in the Frenchman's mind.

Clara was beautiful, and although she had three brothers and a sister,
the wealth of the Marquis de Leganes seemed great enough for Victor
Marchand to believe that the young lady would have a rich dowry. But how
dare he hope that the most bigoted old hidalgo in all Spain would ever
give his daughter to the son of a Parisian grocer?

Besides, the French were hated. The Marquis was suspected by General
Gautier, who governed the province, of planning a revolt in favor of
Ferdinand VII. For this reason the battalion commanded by Victor Marchand
had been cantonned in the little town of Menda, to hold the neighboring
hamlets, which were dependent on the Marquis, in check.

Recent despatches from Marshal Ney had given ground for fear that the
English would shortly land on the coast, and had indicated the Marquis as
a man who carried on communication with the cabinet of London.

In spite, therefore, of the welcome which the Spaniard had given him and
his soldiers, the young officer, Victor Marchand, remained constantly on
his guard. As he was directing his steps toward the terrace, whither he
had come to examine the state of the town and the country districts
entrusted to his care, he debated how