you know," she went on, "I think you are the very prettiest boy I
have ever seen. You may come and kiss me. When I am grown up, I will
make you an officer of my bodyguard!"

* * * * *

Leaving little Isabel Segunda to make friends according to her heart
with the page-boy from Aranjuez (to whom she immediately proceeded to
swear an unalterable fidelity), Rollo and Brother Teodoro retired, to
await with what patience they might the long-delayed approach of the
gipsies.

"Twice during your absence did I believe them on their way," said the
friar. "On the first occasion I heard in the wood wild cries, mixed with
oaths, cursings, and revilings, unfit for any Christian ears. God help
this land that holdeth such heathens within it! But something must have
affrighted the factious, for little by little the noises died away. I
saw the red gleam in the sky wax and wane. And once there was a scream,
strange and terrible, like that of a demon unchained. But, lo! when you
came again with the oxen and the dead, all grew still. It was passing
strange!"

"Not, as I think, more strange than that!" said Rollo, looking out over
the parapet and pointing to the grim line of sentries which guarded the
Hermitage of San Ildefonso. The ruddy light of approaching day scarce
tinged the tree-tops, but the highest fleecy clouds had caught the glow
long before the horizon was touched. Yet the darkness down among the
trees was less absolute than before. There was also a weird, far-away
crying, and then the cheerful clatter of hoofs upon a road nearer at
hand. A slight stirring among the higher foliage advertised the coming
of a breeze. Involuntarily the two men shivered, as with a soughing
murmur a blast of icy wind swept down from the peaks of Penalara, and
the Basque gripped his companion by the arm. Priest as he was, the
superstitions of his ancient race were not dead in his heart, nor had he
forgotten his early military association with camps and sentinels.

"_Grand rounds!_" he cried; "_it is the Angel of Death visiting his
outposts!_"

But Rollo had other and more practical thoughts. He was aware that after
the fatigues of the night and the proximity of so many victims of the
plague, a chill would most likely be fatal. So he carefully drew a
silken handkerchief from his pocket and fastened it calmly about his
throat, advising the monk to cover his head with his hood.

Then suddenly another sound caught his