he Caceres Staircase?"

"No, not that either."

"At any rate, you know where the Oratory is?"

"We know nothing about it."

"But the choir of the Oratory? but the dove-cotes?"--

Sum total, we had not the slightest acquaintance with any of that
congeries of winding turns, sudden tricks, and baffling surprises. The
architectural arrangement was a mad caprice, a mocking jest at all
plan and symmetry. Nevertheless, despite our notable lack of
experience we stuck to our quest, and even carried our infatuation so
far as to reject the services of a boy who offered himself as our
guide.

"We are now in the wing facing on the Plaza de Oriente," said Pez;
"that is to say, at exactly the opposite extreme from the wing in
which our friend resides." His geographical notions were delivered
with the gravity and conviction of some character in Jules Verne.
"Hence, the problem now demanding our attention is by what route to
get from here to the western wing. In the first place, the cupola of
the chapel and the grand stairway roof-covering furnish us with a
certain basis; we should take our bearings from them. I assume that,
having once arrived in the western wing, we shall be numskulls indeed
if we do not strike Bringas's abode. All the same, I for one will
never return to these outlandish regions without a pocket compass, and
what is more, without a good supply of provender too, against such
emergencies as this."

Before striking out on the new stage of our explorations, as thus
projected, we paused to look down from the window. The Plaza de
Oriente lay below us in a beautiful panorama, and beyond it a portion
of Madrid crested with at least fifty cupolas, steeples, and bell
towers. The equestrian Philip IV. appeared a mere toy, and the Royal
Theatre a paltry shed.... The doves had their nests far below where we
stood, and we saw them, by pairs or larger groups, plunge headlong
downward into the dizzy abyss, and then presently come whirling upward
again, with swift and graceful motion, and settle on the carved
capitals and moldings. It is credibly stated that all the political
revolutions do not matter a jot to these doves, and there is nothing
either in the ancient pile they inhabit or in the free realms of air
around it, to limit their sway. They remain undisputed masters of the
place.

Away we go once more. Pez begins to put the geographical notions he
has acquired from the books of Jules Verne yet further into practice.