age. She would come into Arithelli's dressing room
and weep, and smoke innumerable cigarettes, and when things had been
going well, they made a _partie carree_ at the Cafe Colomb.

By way of advertising herself and her performance Arithelli was given a
high, smartly painted carriage in which she drove in the fashionable
promenade of Barcelona, the Paseo de Gracia, with three of the
cream-coloured horses lightly harnessed and jingling with bells.

On these occasions Emile played the part of lady's maid and escort. He
selected her dress, fastened it, scolded her for putting her hat on
crooked, and laced up her preposterously high boots.

Then he adjusted the battered sombrero, lit a cigarette and drove
beside her, scowling as usual.

The appearance of both was sufficiently arresting. Arithelli drove as
she rode, recklessly, and yet with science. Her thin wrists and long
girlish arms were capable of controlling the most fiery animal.

She had made Emile her banker, and always handed over to him her weekly
salary, some of which went to the expenses of the Cause as well as a
certain portion in fines, for she had no idea of time and was never
ready for anything.

Nearly every night before she was half-way into her habit the call-boy
came screaming down the passage, calling with the free-and-easy manners
prevalent behind the scenes:

"Hurry up, Arithelli, or there'll be a row!"

The question of a disguise for her was discussed at one of the meetings
of the Brotherhood, and it was decided that she should appear as a boy.
Her height would be an advantage, and her long hands and feet would
also help the illusion in a country where every woman possesses small,
plump and highly arched extremities. Besides, when they had to ride
out to places at night, she would be less noticeable. One girl among a
crowd of men might attract suspicion, though in the daytime she was
more useful as a woman.

It naturally fell upon Emile to provide the details of her
transformation, and he presented himself at her lodgings one afternoon,
bearing an ungainly parcel which he deposited on the table.

"You'd better try these on," he said. "There is a complete suit of
boy's clothes, a wig and everything you'll want. You will have to put
your own hair out of the way somehow."

It was the drowsy hour of the _siesta_, when no one moved out if he
could help it, and all work and play were at a standstill. Arithelli
was sitting, as was her c