ome distance
on foot. He knew that he was still in Madrid, for he walked over
pavement, and in spite of the thick cloth that impeded his hearing, he
could distinguish the distant sound of carriages and hum of life.
Presently a door creaked, and he apparently entered a garden, for there
was a smell of flowers and a rustling of leaves; then he ascended a
staircase, and was conducted through cool lofty apartments, and through
doors which seemed to open and shut of themselves. Suddenly his
companion let go his hand. Federico stood for a minute in silent
expectation, then, groping around him with extended arms, he said in a
low voice--"Am I at my journey's end? Answer!" But nobody replied.

By one decided pull, the student tore the bandage from his eyes and
gazed around him in wonder and bewilderment. He was alone in a spacious
and magnificent apartment, whose walls were tapestried with striped blue
and white satin, and whose carved ceiling was richly gilt and decorated.
The tall Venetian mirrors, the costly furniture, the beautifully fine
Indian matting, every thing in the room, in short, convinced him that he
was in the favoured abode of wealth, and rank, and luxury. A lamp,
suspended by silver chains, shed a soft light over the apartment.
Federico's position was a doubtful, probably a dangerous one; but love
emboldened him, and he felt the truth of a saying of Geronimo's, that
courage grows with peril. Happen what might, there he was, and he knew
no fear. The only perceptible exit from the room was by the large,
folding-doors through which he had entered. He tried them--they were
fastened. His mother-wit suggested to him that his retreat had perhaps
been thus cut off, that he might seek another outlet. He did so, and
presently perceived hinges under the tapestry. A silver handle protruded
from the wall; he grasped it, a door opened, and a cry of astonishment
and delight burst from the student. Beaming with loveliness, a blush
upon her cheek, a soft smile upon her rosy lips, the lady of his
thoughts stood before him.

For a moment the pair gazed at each other in silence, their looks
telling more eloquently than any words, the love that filled their
hearts. But soon Federico started from his brief trance, threw himself
at the feet of the incognita, and, seizing her hand, pressed it ardently
to his lips, murmuring the while, in low and passionate accents, such
broken and rapturous sentences as only lovers speak and love alo