ers from his family in Spain,
and who was an ancient brother in arms.

Having made out without much difficulty, the chamber occupied by the
Spanish captain, in a tower of the citadel overlooking the valley of
the Sambre, there was some excuse for preventing his early rest with
a view to the morrow's exercises, in the plea of news from Madrid.

But as the Italian anticipated, ere he had half disburdened his
budget of Escurial gossip, Nignio de Zuniga had his own grievances to
confide. Uppermost in his mind, was the irritation of having been
employed that morning in a cow-hunt; and from execrations on the name
of the old woman, enriched with all the blasphemies of a trooper's
vocabulary,--it was no difficult matter to glide to the general
misdemeanours and malefactions of the sex. For Gabriel Nignio was a
man of iron,--bred in camps, with as little of the milk of human
kindness in his nature as his royal master King Philip; and it was
his devout conviction, that no petticoat should be allowed within ten
leagues of any Christian encampment,--and that women were inflicted
upon this nether earth, solely for the abasement and contamination of
the nobler sex.

"As if that accursed Frenchwoman, and the nest of jays, her maids of
honour, were not enough for the penance of an unhappy sinner for the
space of a calendar year!"--cried he, still harping upon the old
woman.

"The visit of Queen Margaret must indeed have put you to some trouble
and confusion," observed Gonzaga carelessly. "From as much as is
_apparent_ of your householding, I can scarce imagine how you managed
to bestow so courtly a dame here in honour; or with what pastimes you
managed to entertain her."

"The sequins of Lepanto and piastres of his holiness were not yet
quite exhausted," replied Nignio. "Even the Namurrois came down
handsomely. The sister of two French kings, and sister-in-law of the
Duke of Lorraine, was a person for even the thick-skulled Walloons to
respect. It was not _money_ that was wanting--it was patience. O,
these Parisians! Make me monkey-keeper, blessed Virgin, to the beast
garden of the Escurial; but spare me for the rest of my days the
honour of being seneschal to the finikin household of a queen on her
travels!"

Impossible to forbear a laugh at the fervent hatred depicted in the
warworn features of the Castilian captain, "I' faith, my clear
Nignio," said Gonzaga, "for the squire of so gallant a knight as Don
John of Austria, yo