monkeys--Joseph--Early compliments--Ernesto pleads in vain--Down by
the river--Music of the reeds--Rich prospect--Faust--Singers of the
world--Joseph takes tickets--Gerona keeps late hours--Its little
great world--Between the acts--Successful evening--In the dark
night--On the bridge--Silence and solitude--Astral bodies--Joseph
turns Job's comforter--Magnetism--Delormais psychological--Alone in
the streets--Saluting the Church militant--Haunted staircase
again--Sighs and rustlings--H. C. retires--"Drink to me only with
thine eyes"--Delormais' challenge--Leads the
way--Illumination--Coffee equipage--"Only the truth is
painful"--Lost in reverie.

We were facing the wonderful arcades which still seemed haunted by
Rosalie's shadow, so vivid the impression she left behind her. It was
one of the most striking bits of Gerona the beautiful, with its massive
masonry and deep recesses requiring sunlight to relieve their mysterious
gloom.

In a few moments we stood once more on the bridge, looking upon the
remarkable scene. The demons were in full work down in the dry bed of
the river; their altars threw out tongues of flame as wood, coal and
braise mingled their elements, and the air seemed full of the scent of
roasted chestnuts.

Those marvellous houses stood on either side with their old-world
outlines and weather-beaten stains. Above them rose the towers of
Gerona's churches, sharply cutting the grey sky. To our right, the
boulevard stretched far down, with its waving, rustling trees. All the
shows were in full operation; streams of people went to and fro; the
booths were making a fortune; the Dutch auction was giving away its
wares--if the auctioneer might be relied on.

We joined the crowd and presently felt a tug at our elbow. It was
Ernesto with radiant face, his hands full of chestnuts freely offered
and accepted. We found it easy to persuade ourselves the indigestible
horrors were excellent.

"Ernesto, you are taking liberties," said his mother, as the boy took
our arm to confide his purchases. A Rhine-stone brooch for the mother,
which Mrs. Malaprop would have declared quite an object of bigotry and
virtue; a wonderful knife for himself, full of sharp blades and secret
springs. A purse capable of holding gold, and a pocket-book that would
soon become dropsical with a boy's treasures. Finally, from the
innermost recess of a trousers' pocket, he produced for an i