proposedthat
they
should
go
to
him
without
delay
.
The
artist
,
apparently
having
no
will
but
hers
,
consented
;
and
as
he
looked
up
from
his
desk
the
Earl
,
to
his
astonishment
,
beheld
his
daughter
leading
Rupert
towards
him
.
It
was
bewildering
,
but
Lady
May
laughed
as
she
told
him
.
'
Karina
knew
my
secret
long
ago
,
'
she
said
;
'
this
gentleman
has
kept
his
till
to-day
.
'
Rupert
,
with
a
look
of
great
clearness
in
eyes
and
countenance
,
interposed
,
'
I
meant
to
ask
you
when
I
finished
the
Madonna
of
the
Seraphim
;
but
I
went
away
.
'
'
Ah
,
yes
,
'
she
answered
,
smiling
a
rebuke
at
him
,
'
you
went
away
.
But
you
never
shall
again
.
'
Lord
Trelingham
was
still
confused
.
'
Are
you
sure
that
you
can
make
Mr.
Glanville
happy
?
'
he
said
to
his
daughter
;
'
in
a
marriage
like
this
so
much
depends
on
the
wife
.
'
—
'
I
am
sure
that
I
love
him
,
'
she
answered
,
and
Rupert
thanked
her
with
his
eyes
.
'
Very
well
,
'
said
the
Earl
,
'
you
are
your
own
mistress
,
my
dear
.
You
know
I
never
wished
you
to
marry
your
cousin
,
even
when
I
thought
you
liked
him
.
'
—
'
Oh
,
'
she
said
laughingly
,
'
because
of
the
horoscope
.
But
are
you
quite
certain
it
was
Tom
's
and
not
mine
?
Mistakes
will
happen
,
I
suppose
,
even
in
astrology
.
But
we
believe
in
happy
stars
,
do
n't
we
,
Rupert
?
'
It
was
the
first
time
she
had
called
him
by
his
name
,
and
her
eyes
sparkled
.
'
What
was
that
about
Tom
Davenant
's
horoscope
?
he
inquired
,
as
they
left
the
library
.
'
It
is
all
nonsense
,
'
she
said
;
'
something
about
his
being
drowned
.
I
will
tell
you
another
time
,
not
now
;
the
day
is
too
beautiful
for
sad
things
.
'
They
heard
the
tennis-players
coming
from
their
game
,
laughing
merrily
.
'
What
a
light
there
is
on
the
waters
!
'
murmured
Rupert
,
as
they
stood
once
more
on
the
terrace
,
with
the
sea
in
front
of
them
.
May
put
her
hand
in
his
,
and
they
continued
gazing
in
silence
,
side
by
side
.
CHAPTER
XXXIV
HYMEN
,
O
HYMENÆE
!
The
announcement
which
Madame
de
Lutenieff
had
mockingly
foretold
—
of
a
marriage
between
the
well-known
artist
and
the
daughter
of
a
great
peer
—
was
delayed
until
Rupert
had
fulfilled
his
task
and
the
frescoes
were
complete
.
They
made
a
magnificent
show
,
but
he
entreated
that
their
formal
exhibition
to
the
world
might
not
take
place
until
Lady
May
and
himself
had
quitted
Trelingham
.
He
could
not
bear
to
be
congratulated
.
He
knew
that
the
work
was
equal
to
anything
achieved
in
England
of
late
years
;
and
he
thought
it
would
speak
for
itself
to
those
who
had
eyes
in
their
heads
.
It
was
part
of
his
strangeness
that
he
never
referred
to
the
memorable
evening
of
the
ball
at
which
,
for
the
first
and
last
time
,
he
had
danced
with
Hippolyta
.
Some
allusion
was
necessarily
made
to
the
tableaux
vivants
,
but
from
him
it
drew
no
response
.
Had
he
forgotten
,
or
was
he
acting
a
part
?
Ivor
,
staying
by
express
invitation
from
the
Earl
,
who
perceived
that
Glanville
derived
much
benefit
from
his
company
,
was
convinced
that
the
fever
had
passed
a
sponge
not
only
over
Hippolyta
's
name
,
but
over
the
scenes
wherein
she
had
appeared
.
He
dreaded
accidental
references
to
her
,
and
sought
occasion
one
day
to
whisper
in
the
ear
of
the
Earl
's
daughter
that
if
she
desired
Rupert
's
continuance
in
the
health
he
was
enjoying
,
she
must
be
careful
not
to
mention
Falside
,
or
any
one
connected
with
it
.
In
surprise
she
asked
the
reason
.
He
thought
it
best
to
reply
,
with
seeming
frankness
,
that
Glanville
's
attack
of
fever
was
due
to
an
accident
he
had
sustained
near
the
cottage
;
that
during
his
delirium
the
least
allusion
to
place
or
people
made
him
much
worse
;
and
that
she
might
notice
for
herself
how
completely
he
kept
silence
about
them
since
he
had
recovered
.
Lady
May
thanked
him
.
She
remembered
now
that
the
name
of
Colonel
Valence
or
his
daughter
had
not
been
heard
from
Rupert
's
lips
during
the
past
months
.
Ivor
begged
her
to
warn
Lord
Trelingham
.
She
did
so
,
and
the
tacit
consent
was
renewed
which
for
years
had
banished
the
name
of
Valence
from
conversation
at
the
Court
.
There
was
considerable
stir
in
the
great
world
when
their
engagement
became
known
.
It
had
then
existed
nearly
six
months
,
and
the
marriage
was
to
take
place
before
Lent
.
This
was
a
stipulation
of
Lord
Trelingham
's
,
to
which
his
daughter
willingly
acceded
,
as
likewise
to
the
arrangement
whereby
all
the
glory
of
it
was
to
overshadow
his
favourite
church
,
St.
Ethelfleda
's
,
in
Duke
's
Lane
.
The
ecclesiastical
ceremonies
would
be
elaborate
,
and
some
of
them
,
it
was
thought
,
illegal
;
but
on
these
points
the
Earl
admitted
of
no
compromise
.
Rupert
assented
languidly
.
He
could
have
wished
to
be
married
on
the
Continent
;
but
if
that
might
not
be
,
anywhere
was
better
than
Trelingham
.
The
settlements
involved
less
delay
than
usual
.
Lady
May
's
interest
in
the
Earl
's
entailed
property
was
slight
;
and
her
personal
fortune
,
though
smaller
than
it
would
have
been
in
more
skilful
hands
than
her
father
's
,
was
perfectly
safe
,
and
included
neither
land
nor
houses
.
Rupert
was
,
if
anything
,
the
wealthier
of
the
two
.
His
solicitor
drew
up
a
lucid
inventory
of
his
goods
and
belongings
;
among
them
was
Forrest
House
,
now
let
at
a
handsome
figure
to
a
tenant
who
held
it
on
a
seven
years
'
lease
.
Lady
May
observed
the
name
;
she
was
acquainted
with
the
neighbourhood
,
and
asked
Rupert
what
sort
of
place
Forrest
House
might
be
.
He
answered
in
very
few
words
,
telling
her
it
had
belonged
to
his
grand-aunt
,
and
he
had
not
seen
it
since
spending
his
holidays
there
when
a
boy
.
'
It
must
be
worth
a
visit
,
'
she
said
.
'
No
,
'
he
replied
absently
.
The
conversation
drifted
to
something
else
.
It
was
a
brilliant
wedding
,
and
St.
Ethelfleda
's
was
thronged
.
Ivor
,
invited
to
act
as
Rupert
's
best
man
,
declined
,
alleging
that
he
should
feel
absurdly
out
of
place
;
and
he
contented
himself
with
being
a
spectator
.
There
was
no
lack
of
'
best
men
'
among
the
artist
's
acquaintance
,
including
that
particular
one
of
his
confrères
who
had
first
given
Lady
May
an
account
of
him
.
The
bridesmaids
were
,
what
they
are
always
said
to
be
on
such
occasions
,
charming
;
the
ceremonies
as
elaborate
as
they
could
be
made
,
the
crowd
of
carriages
great
,
the
wedding-march
thrilling
,
the
wedding-breakfast
artistically
splendid
.
Rupert
,
as
more
than
one
of
his
friends
observed
,
was
grave
and
still
.
'
He
is
subdued
before
marriage
,
'
said
a
cynic
;
'
well
,
as
lief
sune
as
syne
;
all
men
are
subdued
after
it
.
'
In
returning
thanks
for
the
way
they
had
drunk
Lady
May
Glanville
's
health
—
she
blushed
at
the
new
name
—
he
was
felicitous
,
as
they
expected
,
but
not
so
bright
as
many
had
known
him
to
be
.
The
ceremony
was
over
,
the
scene
vanished
.
Lady
May
and
her
husband
,
accompanied
by
the
Earl
,
whom
they
insisted
on
taking
with
them
,
went
by
easy
stages
to
Florence
,
and
travelled
during
the
next
half-year
up
and
down
Italy
.
Tom
Davenant
,
before
their
engagement
was
published
,
had
found
a
shooting
companion
and
was
now
in
the
Rocky
Mountains
.
The
Earl
wrote
to
him
at
San
Francisco
,
where
he
was
in
course
of
time
to
spend
a
few
weeks
.
And
Ivor
Mardol
returned
to
his
engravings
in
Grafton
Place
.
He
had
broken
with
his
society
;
he
was
watched
,
suspected
,
but
otherwise
let
alone
.
·
·
·
·
·
·
In
the
old
stories
a
year
and
a
day
was
the
fated
period
when
happiness
or
misfortune
came
to
an
end
.
Will
happiness
last
so
long
?
Lady
May
would
have
returned
to
that
inquiry
a
triumphant
answer
in
the
affirmative
on
the
morning
that
she
and
her
husband
bade
farewell
to
Florence
,
after
a
sojourn
which
had
continued
,
with
pleasant
interruptions
,
some
eighteen
months
.
With
her
it
was
still
the
honeymoon
.
There
had
been
flecks
of
cloud
in
her
untroubled
sky
,
but
they
did
not
linger
;
they
melted
quickly
into
the
blue
,
leaving
her
the
most
contented
wife
in
Christendom
.
Her
father
's
delicate
health
was
a
trial
,
which
he
lightened
for
the
married
pair
by
a
cheerful
countenance
and
a
resignation
corresponding
to
his
inward
hopes
.
Tom
Davenant
,
won
by
the
Earl
's
solicitations
,
—
he
could
not
bear
to
see
the
young
man
wandering
over
the
face
of
the
earth
,
—
had
come
back
from
America
,
and
was
now
on
his
way
to
meet
them
at
Nice
.
They
proposed
to
spend
a
few
weeks
there
and
in
the
neighbourhood
,
exploring
,
as
the
season
grew
milder
,
those
dead
cities
along
the
coast
which
neither
Rupert
nor
Lady
May
had
seen
.
Afterwards
they
would
extend
their
travels
,
according
as
the
Earl
could
bear
it
,
into
Spain
,
as
far
as
Valencia
.
They
did
not
know
exactly
how
their
course
would
lie
.
The
charm
of
travelling
,
said
Glanville
,
is
to
have
no
plans
;
there
is
nothing
like
the
unforeseen
.
Perhaps
Cousin
Tom
would
accompany
them
.
The
inspired
artist
had
been
quiescent
in
our
friend
since
his
wedding-day
.
He
studied
pictures
,
and
sharpened
his
powers
of
criticism
;
but
he
painted
very
seldom
,
sketching
a
scene
or
a
head
that
took
his
fancy
,
working
for
two
or
three
hours
,
and
then
throwing
down
his
pencil
with
an
air
of
fatigue
.
This
was
one
of
the
flecks
of
cloud
that
rose
in
the
heaven
of
his
wife
's
content
.
He
would
be
absorbed
,
too
,
in
his
thoughts
,
and
not
speak
for
a
whole
morning
;
sometimes
his
sleep
was
broken
,
he
had
bad
dreams
,
and
could
not
always
remember
where
they
had
been
staying
a
few
days
earlier
.
But
his
love
was
not
to
be
doubted
.
Though
he
never
went
into
the
raptures
which
his
eager
disposition
should
have
demanded
,
he
was
grateful
and
protecting
,
full
of
quiet
tenderness
,
and
never
separated
from
her
during
the
twenty-four
hours
.
They
did
not
go
much
into
society
or
receive
many
friends
;
but
apart
from
Lady
May
,
Rupert
had
no
amusement
.
Once
at
the
reception
of
a
Roman
princess
,
to
which
Rupert
had
taken
her
chiefly
to
see
the
marbles
,
which
were
famous
,
they
found
themselves
,
in
the
crowded
rooms
,
face
to
face
with
the
Duke
of
Adullam
.
He
had
known
Lady
May
in
his
time
of
innocence
,
and
he
at
once
accosted
Glanville
.
The
artist
gave
him
an
inquiring
look
,
and
said
with
embarrassment
,
'
Pardon
me
,
sir
.
I
seem
to
recollect
your
face
,
but
I
cannot
tell
where
it
was
we
met
.
'
The
Duke
,
who
,
as
I
have
remarked
,
was
admirably
quick
in
divining
other
men
's
thoughts
,
supposed
that
Rupert
was
feigning
.
He
smiled
,
and
murmured
under
his
breath
,
'
This
is
needless
;
'
then
raising
his
voice
,
said
pleasantly
,
'
We
shall
meet
again
,
'
and
passed
on
.
'
Who
is
it
?
'
inquired
the
artist
of
Lady
May
.
'
The
Duke
of
Adullam
,
'
she
answered
,
wondering
in
her
own
mind
where
they
could
have
known
one
another
.
'
I
must
have
met
him
somewhere
in
society
,
'
said
her
husband
.
It
was
the
only
time
they
met
abroad
.
May
Glanville
was
jealous
of
her
husband
's
fame
,
and
,
while
they
were
at
Nice
expecting
Tom
Davenant
,
she
began
to
urge
him
,
somewhat
vehemently
,
to
resume
his
painting
.
He
replied
,
'
I
have
no
inspiration
.
The
spirit
has
gone
out
of
me
.
I
could
not
design
a
fresh
drawing
to
save
my
life
.
'
—
'
Why
not
finish
what
you
have
commenced
?
'
she
said
;
'
there
are
portfolios
of
drawings
in
our
room
.
Shall
I
send
for
them
?
'
He
was
willing
,
but
not
interested
.
The
drawings
were
brought
down
,
and
Lady
May
began
to
turn
them
over
.
'
This
seems
nearly
perfect
,
'
she
said
,
holding
the
largest
of
them
out
to
him
.
He
took
it
in
silence
.
It
was
a
water-colour
.
'
When
did
I
paint
that
?
'
he
muttered
to
himself
.
'
May
,
is
not
this
the
cascade
at
Falside
?
'
He
seemed
to
be
searching
in
his
memory
.
'
No
one
could
mistake
it
,
'
she
answered
;
'
do
n't
you
remember
going
over
several
times
from
Trelingham
to
sketch
there
?
'
—
'
No
,
'
he
said
,
shaking
his
head
;
'
I
often
think
I
must
have
forgotten
what
I
did
that
year
;
it
is
all
so
dim
.
'
His
wife
,
mindful
of
Ivor
's
warning
,
and
terrified
at
the
change
in
his
expression
,
took
the
sketch
and
hid
it
away
.
He
would
not
paint
that
morning
,
and
they
went
down
to
the
sea
.
After
dinner
he
asked
to
look
at
the
drawing
again
,
but
it
could
not
be
found
.
His
mind
seemed
busy
with
it
while
he
slept
,
and
he
awoke
several
times
in
the
night
with
sobs
choking
him
.
Lady
May
was
in
consternation
.
She
never
urged
him
to
paint
again
.
Tom
Davenant
's
arrival
gave
them
pleasanter
occupation
.
He
was
still
the
wild
huntsman
,
nor
had
he
lost
that
boyish
innocence
which
made
his
talk
,
though
neither
witty
nor
profound
,
so
engaging
.
A
life
of
adventure
could
not
take
away
the
ruddy
and
white
of
his
countenance
;
the
feminine
beauty
and
the
open
beaming
eyes
had
in
nothing
altered
.
But
his
bearing
was
more
manly
;
he
dwelt
a
little
on
the
social
aspect
of
landed
property
,
and
said
he
should
take
Ivor
Mardol
's
advice
what
to
do
about
his
tenants
when
he
got
back
to
Foxholme
.
He
was
reserved
and
courteous
with
Lady
May
,
spent
most
of
his
time
with
the
Earl
,
and
seemed
struck
with
the
alteration
in
Glanville
,
whom
he
had
never
set
eyes
on
since
the
coming
of
age
.
'
Brain
fever
must
be
a
peculiar
thing
,
'
he
remarked
;
'
I
should
not
have
known
Glanville
.
'
He
readily
consented
to
accompany
them
on
their
tour
.
You
could
get
riding
and
shooting
in
Spain
of
an
uncommonly
good
sort
;
and
the
fishing
,
a
man
told
him
in
America
,
was
superb
,
if
you
knew
where
to
look
for
it
.
They
must
be
careful
of
the
season
,
that
was
all
.
And
he
helped
Glanville
to
draw
out
what
they
called
a
fever
time-table
,
showing
when
the
air
was
deadly
to
foreigners
in
the
various
provinces
.
Lord
Trelingham
,
though
not
a
rapid
,
was
a
good
traveller
.
Rupert
did
not
care
how
long
the
journeys
took
.
His
sole
desire
was
not
to
return
to
England
.
He
would
have
liked
Ivor
to
join
them
;
but
Ivor
was
now
working
hard
to
keep
himself
alive
and
had
sold
his
genius
to
a
newspaper
.
He
did
not
meddle
with
Socialism
,
nor
had
he
entered
a
lodge
since
the
fatal
night
in
Denzil
Lane
They
were
still
at
Nice
,
when
Rupert
one
afternoon
,
being
too
fatigued
to
go
out
on
the
beach
,
stayed
in
to
write
a
letter
or
two
,
and
was
resting
by
the
open
window
.
It
was
a
lovely
winter
's
day
,
the
sea
tranquil
,
and
the
lights
subdued
and
pensive
,
while
the
air
came
in
warm
gusts
through
the
casement
,
which
was
completely
framed
in
leaves
.
Glanville
felt
very
weak
;
his
mind
,
too
,
was
distracted
,
he
could
not
tell
why
.
The
letter
he
was
writing
would
not
get
itself
finished
.
He
let
his
pen
drop
,
took
up
a
paper-knife
,
and
began
to
make
imaginary
drawings
on
the
desk
.
While
he
was
playing
idly
with
it
,
and
the
confused
memories
of
the
last
three
years
were
passing
through
his
brain
,
a
thought
struck
him
,
and
he
looked
attentively
at
the
desk
,
almost
as
though
it
were
a
living
thing
which
could
tell
him
what
he
wanted
.
'
Why
do
I
carry
this
always
with
me
?
he
asked
himself
;
'
I
know
there
must
be
a
reason
.
Did
it
belong
to
any
one
?
'
He
could
not
recollect
.
But
he
turned
it
to
and
fro
,
opened
the
compartments
,
unlocked
some
secret
drawers
,
and
poured
out
their
contents
on
the
table
.
They
made
a
miscellaneous
heap
.
'
Looking
for
letters
,
'
he
said
musingly
;
'
who
was
it
that
turned
over
a
great
pile
of
correspondence
,
looking
for
letters
?
I
was
standing
by
.
And
there
was
only
a
candle
burning
.
At
night
it
was
,
surely
.
I
wish
I
could
remember
.
'
He
passed
his
hand
through
the
papers
;
it
struck
against
a
bundle
of
them
,
which
he
drew
out
—
a
small
packet
tied
carefully
with
riband
.
He
undid
it
,
and
a
number
of
letters
fell
on
the
table
.
At
the
sight
of
that
handwriting
,
which
he
did
not
know
,
which
he
could
not
assign
to
the
writer
,
a
fit
of
trembling
came
over
him
.
He
sat
down
,
and
for
some
time
would
not
look
again
.
Then
with
an
effort
he
turned
to
the
signature
.
There
was
none
,
all
the
letters
were
unsigned
.
But
there
was
a
heading
to
each
of
them
,
and
it
breathed
the
tenderest
affection
;
and
as
he
passed
from
one
to
the
other
,
astonished
,
overcome
,
pierced
through
and
through
,
the
flood-gates
of
memory
burst
open
.
Tears
gushed
from
his
eyes
;
he
laid
his
head
,
weeping
,
on
the
desk
,
and
murmured
in
agony
,
'
Hippolyta
.
'
Little
by
little
it
came
back
,
the
sweet
,
dreadful
,
forgotten
past
.
Holding
her
letters
in
his
hand
,
putting
them
to
his
bosom
like
the
anodyne
that
would
still
his
beating
heart
,
reading
them
in
snatches
and
breaking
off
blinded
with
tears
,
he
spent
the
next
hour
and
the
next
piecing
together
his
shattered
life
and
endeavouring
to
make
out
his
own
story
.
Hippolyta
was
lost
and
he
was
married
to
Lady
May
.
That
was
the
sum
.
Fate
had
been
too
strong
for
them
.
Three
years
—
he
could
not
reckon
,
even
now
,
whether
it
was
three
years
or
how
long
it
was
—
since
the
only
woman
he
loved
had
forsaken
him
,
and
he
was
the
husband
of
another
!
A
cold
sweat
broke
out
on
his
forehead
.
He
felt
like
a
dying
man
.
'
What
if
the
fever
should
return
,
and
I
forget
again
!
'
he
said
,
shuddering
from
head
to
foot
.
How
strange
to
have
forgotten
Hippolyta
!
But
she
had
been
more
cruel
;
she
remembered
and
was
gone
away
.
Or
could
she
be
dead
?
Her
father
thought
so
;
it
was
the
last
word
he
had
spoken
that
night
at
Falside
.
The
sound
of
footsteps
was
heard
on
the
gravel
.
May
and
her
cousin
,
who
had
attended
Lord
Trelingham
in
his
walk
,
were
coming
in
.
Rupert
thrust
back
the
letters
into
their
hiding-place
,
and
brushed
past
his
wife
at
the
door
.
'
Where
are
you
going
,
dear
?
'
she
said
,
trying
to
detain
him
.
'
For
a
walk
,
'
was
his
answer
;
'
I
shall
not
dine
.
Do
n't
wait
for
me
.
'
She
was
utterly
astonished
.
Glanville
,
taking
his
hat
,
ran
down
the
steps
and
away
in
the
direction
of
the
sea
.
'
Tom
,
'
said
Lady
May
to
her
cousin
,
'
something
has
happened
.
Rupert
is
not
well
.
Follow
him
,
please
,
and
keep
him
in
sight
till
he
comes
home
again
.
'
The
young
man
obeyed
at
once
.
He
did
not
like
the
appearance
of
Rupert
's
eyes
when
he
passed
them
.
They
were
wild
and
dangerous
.
He
moved
on
quietly
,
and
saw
that
the
artist
was
taking
hasty
strides
up
and
down
the
beach
,
his
head
sunk
in
deep
meditation
,
his
arms
folded
in
front
of
him
.
To
disturb
him
would
have
been
imprudent
;
there
was
nothing
for
it
but
to
keep
out
of
sight
and
watch
till
darkness
came
on
.
When
night
fell
Rupert
was
still
pacing
over
the
sands
.
Then
Tom
went
up
to
him
,
and
with
gentle
decision
took
him
by
the
arm
and
led
him
home
.
Glanville
did
not
resist
;
he
went
in
and
shut
himself
in
his
room
.
Lady
May
found
him
lying
on
the
bed
asleep
.
She
sat
there
a
long
time
,
afraid
to
wake
him
;
but
when
he
came
to
himself
again
he
reprimanded
her
tenderly
for
letting
him
lie
,
dressed
as
he
was
,
so
many
hours
.
'
Are
you
better
?
'
she
inquired
,
bending
over
him
.
'
As
well
as
I
ever
shall
be
,
'
he
replied
in
a
tone
of
utter
sadness
.
And
that
was
all
the
explanation
he
would
give
of
the
fatal
afternoon
.
He
left
her
now
frequently
and
took
solitary
expeditions
on
foot
,
in
which
he
would
allow
none
to
join
him
.
Tom
Davenant
was
not
fitted
to
play
the
spy
;
he
felt
that
Rupert
,
though
ill
and
feverish
,
was
capable
of
resenting
surveillance
,
which
indeed
,
after
the
first
outbreak
,
he
did
not
seem
to
need
.
Lady
May
consulted
the
Earl
's
physician
privately
.
He
recommended
that
as
little
notice
as
possible
should
be
taken
,
but
a
person
set
to
watch
Glanville
when
he
went
abroad
.
it
was
done
,
and
nothing
came
of
it
.
The
artist
merely
went
by
the
sea
,
or
sat
in
a
sheltered
nook
when
he
had
got
some
distance
from
home
.
He
appeared
to
be
reading
papers
occasionally
;
he
met
no
one
and
did
himself
no
harm
.
The
surveillance
was
given
up
,
and
Lady
May
,
on
her
father
's
advice
,
urged
their
journey
to
Spain
.
Perhaps
change
of
air
was
all
Rupert
required
.
He
required
much
more
,
but
she
could
not
have
imagined
it
.
During
the
next
months
there
went
on
a
desperate
struggle
between
his
restored
memory
,
bringing
him
daily
anguish
,
and
the
weakened
reason
which
the
brain
fever
had
left
him
.
To
unburden
himself
of
his
secret
might
have
been
deliverance
,
but
he
could
not
speak
,
least
of
all
to
Lady
May
He
said
,
'
I
do
not
love
her
,
'
when
he
was
away
by
the
sea
and
Hippolyta
's
letters
,
with
their
naïve
and
intoxicating
tenderness
,
were
spread
out
before
him
.
But
he
came
home
,
and
the
letters
were
hidden
again
,
and
he
felt
pity
for
the
deluded
wife
who
had
been
faithful
in
everything
.
He
knew
the
romance
of
the
picture
which
had
first
made
her
acquainted
with
his
name
.
She
told
him
one
day
at
Fiesole
;
he
did
not
remember
Hippolyta
then
,
and
he
was
grateful
that
this
high-hearted
Lady
May
had
understood
and
cared
for
him
.
So
now
he
pitied
,
he
almost
loved
her
;
but
it
was
not
the
great
warm
sunshine
of
love
;
it
was
a
dreamy
pale
reflection
,
leaving
him
chill
and
her
dissatisfied
.
For
she
could
not
tell
what
had
come
over
Rupert
.
Was
there
an
earlier
affection
?
They
came
across
Madame
de
Lutenieff
in
their
travels
.
She
was
the
same
as
ever
,
but
she
remarked
a
change
in
them
.
She
had
always
been
a
little
sceptical
of
the
artist
's
devotion
to
her
cousin
,
though
never
,
since
the
day
when
she
refused
Tom
Davenant
,
of
Lady
May
's
attachment
to
him
.
With
her
old
malicious
lightness
she
sped
a
random
arrow
,
as
they
were
sitting
at
the
late
breakfast
in
the
hotel
at
Burgos
,
where
they
were
all
staying
.
'
Have
you
heard
of
Miss
Valence
lately
?
'
she
said
to
Glanville
,
looking
across
at
him
.
He
rose
hastily
,
and
thundering
out
,
'
Never
mention
that
name
in
my
hearing
,
you
witch
,
'
left
the
room
.
She
was
mortally
offended
,
and
said
to
Lady
May
,
'
I
knew
it
was
not
all
fancy
.
Take
care
they
never
meet
,
or
you
will
suffer
the
consequences
.
'
May
,
with
equal
anger
,
declared
that
it
was
a
vile
calumny
.
Rupert
had
been
thrown
from
his
horse
near
Falside
,
she
went
on
,
and
the
concussion
of
the
brain
which
ensued
had
almost
proved
fatal
;
that
was
why
he
could
not
endure
the
associations
of
the
place
.
Karina
did
not
believe
the
story
.
She
declined
to
pardon
Rupert
;
and
though
it
cost
her
a
pang
to
leave
Tom
Davenant
,
her
passion
for
whom
was
more
absorbing
than
ever
,
she
bad
them
good-bye
next
day
.
Not
sorry
that
she
was
gone
,
the
others
continued
to
travel
southwards
.
They
saw
the
curious
old
Spanish
life
that
still
lingers
on
the
Mediterranean
shore
.
They
visited
many
a
gloomy
or
graceful
cathedral
.
They
spent
as
many
days
as
its
depressing
climate
would
allow
in
the
golden
air
of
Valencia
,
and
were
fascinated
with
the
limpid
skies
,
exhilarating
atmosphere
,
and
gorgeous
painted
sunsets
of
Malaga
.
Thence
they
returned
through
some
of
the
wildest
and
most
picturesque
country
they
had
ever
beheld
,
—
green
valleys
,
steep
and
rocky
paths
,
and
luxuriant
vegetation
,
where
the
dark-green
of
the
orange
groves
was
mingled
with
the
cane-brake
,
—
by
Velez
and
Alhama
to
the
'
Last
Sigh
of
the
Moor
,
'
and
entering
late
,
while
the
sun
glittered
on
the
snowy
range
aheadof
them
,
beheld
the
enchanted
Vega
and
Granada
.
It
was
three
days
'
riding
such
as
Tom
Davenant
had
not
enjoyed
in
his
life
;
for
he
delighted
in
landscape
,
though
he
never
spoke
of
it
.
The
third
day
had
been
allowed
for
the
sake
of
his
cousin
and
her
two
invalids
.
Rupert
,
still
fighting
with
madness
,
saw
the
beautiful
things
of
their
pilgrimage
as
in
a
dream
.
But
the
Sierra
Nevada
,
with
its
glittering
snows
,
made
him
lift
his
eyes
to
it
.
'
Oh
,
that
I
had
wings
like
a
dove
,
'
he
murmured
in
the
sweet
familiar
words
,
'
and
I
would
fly
and
be
at
rest
.
'
They
had
come
through
Barcelona
,
but
he
had
prevailed
on
them
not
to
explore
what
sights
it
possessed
.
He
could
not
bear
anything
that
reminded
him
of
Hippolyta
;
the
remembrance
that
she
was
born
in
this
land
of
the
sun
made
it
melancholy
to
him
.
But
he
would
have
been
sorry
to
leave
it
were
the
moment
of
departure
at
hand
.
Which
this
of
our
travellers
was
self-controlled
enough
to
find
due
pleasure
in
the
walks
by
Genil
and
Darro
,
in
the
endless
unfolding
dream
of
Alhambra
and
Alameda
,
with
their
thousand
reminiscences
from
a
dead
and
gone
time
?
Not
Rupert
.
The
green
Vega
,
the
rosy-tinted
snows
,
the
silence
as
of
eternal
mourning
for
a
past
that
could
never
be
restored
,
the
pathos
,
the
desolation
,
—
these
spoke
to
his
heart
,
soothing
it
a
little
.
They
went
on
to
Cordova
,
built
by
the
Moslems
in
their
ages
of
faith
and
high
fortune
,
when
their
sword
carved
out
empire
and
their
chisel
smoothed
the
marble
blocks
into
symmetry
,
making
of
them
sanctuaries
wherein
stood
the
golden-fretted
inscription
,
'
There
is
no
conqueror
but
Allah
.
'
The
artist-soul
began
to
stir
in
Glanville
.
He
felt
a
desire
to
sketch
these
Oriental-looking
houses
,
to
visit
the
great
mosque
under
changing
lights
,
to
steal
its
colour
from
the
Sierra
for
his
canvas
.
But
a
very
slight
excursion
with
Tom
Davenant
in
the
vicinity
—
Tom
pursuing
the
sport
which
abounds
here
,
and
Rupert
loitering
to
fill
his
sketch-book
—
convinced
him
that
he
must
lay
aside
the
pencil
again
and
fight
his
ghostly
enemy
with
other
weapons
.
He
was
too
weak
to
paint
.
The
spring
was
not
much
advanced
when
they
came
to
Seville
,
which
they
proposed
to
make
their
resting-place
till
the
first
heats
should
compel
them
to
go
on
.
The
bright
city
,
beloved
of
Moor
and
Christian
,
pleased
them
more
than
all
they
had
seen
.
Situate
in
the
midst
of
a
watered
garden
,
sheltered
to
north
and
south
by
a
double
parapet
of
hills
,
lit
up
with
a
clear
sun
which
makes
the
air
transparent
like
glass
and
brings
out
all
delicate
and
fervent
colour
,
with
a
gay
and
smiling
population
moving
in
the
shade
of
the
narrow
,
winding
streets
,
or
basking
in
the
warm
sunshine
,
it
might
well
have
seemed
a
Paradise
for
the
convalescent
spirit
,
that
could
be
cheered
and
strengthened
only
by
surrendering
itself
to
gentle
influences
.
The
nights
were
fresh
;
the
air
exhilarated
like
wine
.
For
Rupert
,
the
physician
said
,
if
he
would
not
expose
himself
to
the
levante
—
the
wind
from
the
African
deserts
—
there
was
no
climate
more
suited
.
His
prostration
of
spirits
would
cease
;
work
would
again
be
possible
.
Lady
May
devoutly
hoped
they
should
witness
a
change
in
him
for
the
better
ere
they
set
out
travelling
again
.
The
pictures
,
the
glories
of
Murillo
,
the
Herreras
,
and
Zurbaran
that
made
Seville
a
treasury
,
ought
to
rouse
his
enthusiasm
,
his
emulation
.
Surely
he
would
not
renounce
his
splendid
calling
?
And
she
quoted
many
of
his
sayings
in
the
gallery
at
Trelingham
,
—
how
art
itself
,
pursued
in
a
spirit
of
truth
,
demanded
and
drew
forth
a
heroism
equal
to
the
highest
.
He
listened
,
he
assented
,
but
he
was
cold
.
Yet
there
came
refreshment
to
his
weary
spirit
,
though
the
star
of
hope
had
set
never
to
rise
again
.
He
was
glad
to
have
lapsed
,
as
it
were
,
out
of
the
busy
modern
life
into
a
realm
where
all
that
was
living
belonged
to
the
past
,
like
a
vision
made
palpable
to
the
sense
,
but
remaining
a
vision
still
.
The
memories
of
those
London
nights
did
not
vex
him
so
keenly
.
He
strolled
about
alone
,
crossed
the
river
frequently
to
explore
Triana
,
the
gipsy
suburb
,
and
distract
himself
with
the
strange
costumes
,
dilapidated
,
picturesque
lanes
,
and
odd-looking
bits
of
colour
which
seemed
quainter
and
more
out
of
the
world
the
more
he
studied
them
.
His
health
improved
.
But
with
returning
strength
came
a
feeling
of
estrangement
from
Lady
May
that
,
conceal
it
as
he
might
,
would
make
its
presence
known
by
imperceptible
channels
.
She
was
alarmed
,
indignant
,
at
her
wits
'
end
.
Could
Rupert
,
so
long
after
their
marriage
,
be
going
back
to
the
days
when
he
cared
nothing
for
her
,
when
she
dared
not
meet
his
eye
?
The
thought
was
not
to
be
endured
.
They
had
never
indulged
in
lovers
'
quarrels
;
but
they
were
sometimes
near
quarrelling
now
,
and
the
atmosphere
was
charged
with
thunder
.
May
Glanville
was
jealous
.
Of
whom
or
what
?
Of
a
dead
love
,
a
memory
,
a
regret
?
Suppose
,
after
all
,
he
had
once
cared
for
Hippolyta
Valence
,
what
did
it
signify
?
All
men
had
such
things
in
their
lives
.
Was
he
not
a
devoted
husband
?
'
Not
as
in
those
first
happy
months
,
'
she
answered
with
a
sigh
.
Tom
Davenant
was
sorry
that
they
had
not
stayed
at
Cordova
,
the
country
round
which
,
with
its
pine
forests
and
wild-wooded
hollows
,
he
preferred
to
the
environs
of
Seville
.
But
coming
in
after
a
long
day
's
rambling
,
he
upbraided
his
friends
at
dinner
for
not
having
paid
a
visit
which
,
he
supposed
,
they
would
have
undertaken
at
the
earliest
opportunity
.
'
In
what
direction
?
'
Lady
May
inquired
.
'
Was
n't
that
picture
in
the
gallery
at
Trelingham
brought
from
a
place
,
a
convent
or
church
,
in
these
parts
?
'
he
asked
in
turn
.
'
From
the
convent
of
San
Lucar
,
'
replied
his
cousin
,
'
and
the
nearest
town
was
Sepúlveda
,
'
—
'
Quite
so
,
'
said
Tom
;
'
I
heard
you
mention
the
name
often
enough
;
and
I
fixed
it
in
my
mind
by
calling
it
Sepulchre
,
which
it
sounds
like
.
'
—
'
It
is
the
name
of
a
poet
,
'
interposed
Rupert
,
'
a
native
of
Cordova
,
I
think
,
whose
ballads
are
sometimes
pretty
.
'
—
'
Well
,
I
got
within
sight
of
it
to-day
,
'
said
Tom
,
'
and
I
thought
it
looked
as
gloomy
as
any
place
I
ever
saw
.
But
the
country
all
about
is
fine
.
Why
do
n't
you
make
an
expedition
to
the
convent
?
You
could
get
there
by
driving
in
three
days
at
the
outside
.
'
'
It
would
be
an
agreeable
diversion
,
'
said
the
Earl
.
'
Do
you
suppose
we
could
put
up
at
Sepúlveda
?
'
'
I
will
tell
you
the
best
way
,
'
answered
Tom
.
'
I
came
round
on
Sepúlveda
—
what
a
name
!
—
by
cross-roads
,
and
I
saw
the
convent
,
standing
out
very
clear
on
one
side
of
the
valley
,
and
a
large
white
house
,
which
I
took
to
be
a
sort
of
paseo
,
if
it
was
not
an
inn
,
on
the
other
.
Let
us
look
in
the
guide-book
.
An
inn
at
that
spot
would
be
exactly
what
you
want
.
You
could
sleep
the
night
there
,
go
over
your
convent
next
morning
,
and
come
back
when
you
pleased
.
'
The
guide-book
when
produced
gave
little
information
.
There
was
an
inn
where
Tom
Davenant
had
seen
one
,
not
of
the
very
best
,
but
fairly
good
.
In
Sepúlveda
there
was
none
to
be
recommended
.
Of
the
convent
only
this
brief
notice
was
given
,
that
it
once
held
the
shrine
of
a
local
saint
,
and
had
shared
in
the
general
suppression
.
After
considerable
debate
it
was
resolved
that
they
should
set
out
in
two
days
,
and
Tom
should
precede
them
to
make
all
ready
.
At
this
point
in
my
story
I
may
as
well
remark
that
not
long
before
the
Duke
of
Adullam
had
despatched
a
peremptory
message
to
Ivor
Mardol
,
who
was
working
as
usual
in
his
own
home
in
Grafton
Place
.
The
laconic
epistle
forbade
delay
;
a
carriage
was
waiting
which
conveyed
Ivor
to
the
Duke
's
residence
,
and
in
a
few
minutes
they
were
seated
with
closed
doors
in
his
library
.
The
conference
lasted
some
time
.
When
Ivor
came
out
again
his
face
had
the
strangest
expression
,
and
bore
traces
of
violent
weeping
.
He
returned
home
in
the
carriage
that
brought
him
,
sent
word
to
his
newspaper
that
they
must
find
some
one
to
take
his
place
and
consider
his
engagement
at
an
end
,
put
some
few
things
together
in
the
greatest
agitation
,
and
started
for
Paris
by
the
night
mail
.
This
observed
we
may
return
to
our
friends
at
Seville
.
They
set
forth
in
brilliant
weather
;
and
difficult
as
are
Spanish
roads
,
and
ill-tempered
as
were
the
Spanish
beasts
that
carried
them
sullenly
along
,
it
was
not
possible
to
resist
the
sweet
influence
of
air
and
sun
,
the
genial
morning
,
and
the
prospects
,
which
grew
lovelier
as
they
advanced
.
Rupert
,
mindful
of
the
purpose
they
were
fulfilling
,
and
the
associations
which
must
be
vividly
present
to
Lady
May
and
her
father
,
exerted
himself
to
bear
a
worthy
part
,
and
by
assiduous
and
delicate
attentions
all
but
effaced
from
his
own
mind
the
feeling
of
estrangement
which
had
ruled
there
during
the
past
weeks
.
It
was
natural
to
touch
on
the
Madonna
of
the
Seraphim
and
its
wonderful
history
;
but
they
diverged
thence
to
speak
of
a
thousand
things
which
were
but
distantly
connected
with
Madonnas
or
with
painting
.
The
charm
of
Glanville
's
conversation
,
long
suppressed
by
illness
,
and
his
anxious
inward
conflicts
,
seemed
greater
than
ever
.
Lord
Trelingham
listened
in
a
pleasant
mood
,
and
his
daughter
's
eyes
sparkled
with
delight
.
She
did
not
venture
to
express
her
feelings
,
lest
Rupert
,
become
self-conscious
,
should
fall
back
into
his
tone
of
reserve
;
but
he
saw
that
she
was
happy
and
it
took
away
the
sting
of
remorse
.
He
knew
his
conduct
for
some
time
had
been
unjustifiable
;
he
could
not
excuse
or
explain
it
.
However
,
he
would
strive
against
the
tempter
.
During
these
days
he
would
not
think
of
Hippolyta
.
While
saying
so
to
himself
he
let
fall
the
conversation
;
he
was
thinking
of
her
already
,
and
the
lovely
face
came
to
trouble
and
perplex
him
.
Still
,
he
made
the
effort
;
he
found
subjects
which
would
lead
them
away
from
the
Hermitage
and
Falside
.
If
at
eventide
he
seemed
worn
out
Lady
May
did
not
suspect
the
reason
.
Their
journey
during
these
two
days
took
them
by
many
a
desert
place
and
wild
,
where
not
a
tree
grew
nor
a
house
was
to
be
seen
,
and
only
the
lentisk
and
the
coarsest
grass
would
flourish
.
Irrigation
failing
,
much
of
the
garden
of
Andalusia
has
become
a
wilderness
;
the
country
people
have
retired
in
the
train
of
effeminate
dukes
and
marquises
to
the
towns
;
and
often
when
the
gates
are
passed
the
traveller
might
fancy
himself
in
the
wastes
of
Africa
.
But
overhead
was
the
steadfast
blue
sky
,
and
on
the
edge
of
the
landscape
rose
that
semicircle
of
lofty
heights
which
Colonel
Valence
had
long
ago
in
his
letter
compared
to
the
drop-scene
of
a
theatre
.
The
snow
lay
on
them
in
great
sparkling
fields
,
which
sometimes
had
the
softness
of
clouds
,
and
changed
colour
as
the
sun
passed
over
them
.
Rupert
spoke
little
this
second
day
,
but
he
did
not
seem
ill
at
ease
.
A
wearisome
drag
up
the
side
of
the
wind-swept
,
long-drawn
ascent
brought
them
at
close
of
day
to
Sepúlveda
,
which
,
huddling
on
the
brow
and
straggling
over
the
sides
of
its
mountain
,
appeared
dark
and
grim
as
they
drove
through
its
unpaved
streets
and
solitary
Plaza
.
'
I
am
glad
we
are
not
staying
here
,
'
said
Lady
May
.
They
came
out
on
the
other
side
as
the
bells
of
San
Lucar
were
ringing
the
Angelus
.
For
a
while
they
paused
.
The
narrow
valley
with
the
country
beyond
lay
at
their
feet
,
the
glory
of
sunset
streaming
over
it
.
To
their
left
,
at
no
great
distance
,
rose
the
gray-white
walls
of
the
convent
,
its
imposing
church
seeming
to
stand
in
front
of
the
other
buildings
,
as
though
to
protect
and
sanctify
them
.
The
windows
glittered
,
and
below
them
,
but
not
far
down
,
the
waters
of
the
Guadalete
,
broadened
to
a
lake
,
shone
like
a
blazing
mirror
beneath
the
rays
of
the
sun
,
which
was
now
on
the
verge
of
the
mountains
,
a
fiery
,
golden
ball
.
The
white
roads
ran
by
the
convent
,
through
garden
after
garden
,
vineyard
after
vineyard
;
and
near
and
far
the
cornfields
grew
lusty
and
green
,
while
feathered
palm-trees
rising
close
to
San
Lucar
gave
an
Oriental
charm
to
the
landscape
,
and
reminded
our
pilgrims
that
they
had
come
to
an
Arabian
land
.
There
was
something
Moorish
and
fairylike
over
it
all
.
They
considered
the
way
they
were
going
.
On
the
right
Lady
May
pointed
out
to
her
father
,
whose
eyes
were
weak
,
the
track
which
led
to
their
inn
—
a
large
white-washed
building
,
with
the
air
of
a
deserted
barracks
,
standing
high
over
against
the
convent
.
For
on
that
side
the
ravine
was
steep
and
much
more
elevated
than
San
Lucar
,
serving
to
screen
the
house
from
the
north-east
wind
.
Small
white
cottages
,
or
rather
huts
,
were
visible
,
looking
like
tiny
sailing-boats
,
among
the
vineyards
;
and
on
the
river
side
a
fisherman
here
and
there
was
drying
his
nets
.
Otherwise
not
a
human
being
was
anywhere
in
sight
.
The
stillness
,
the
absence
of
breathing
life
,
added
a
mournful
charm
.
'
The
landscape
has
fallen
asleep
,
'
said
Rupert
.
Very
slowly
,
for
their
beasts
were
tired
,
they
made
the
circuit
of
the
road
,
now
up
,
now
down
,
until
they
arrived
at
La
Fonda
d'Oro
.
Tom
Davenant
met
them
on
the
way
.
He
had
made
everything
as
comfortable
as
might
be
.
The
host
,
a
travelled
and
well-educated
Andalusian
,
full
of
kindness
and
courtesy
,
received
them
with
much
warmth
,
addressing
them
in
a
few
words
of
very
broken
English
to
show
that
he
knew
their
national
habits
.
He
was
a
Liberal
,
had
lived
some
months
an
exile
in
London
,
and
would
probably
join
in
the
next
pronunciamento
on
behalf
of
the
Republic
.
But
happily
he
could
not
talk
politics
with
Lord
Trelingham
,
whose
mastery
over
foreign
languages
had
never
been
great
.
The
rooms
were
large
and
cool
,
with
little
furniture
and
unpapered
walls
,
but
the
most
extensive
views
over
the
valley
and
beyond
.
There
were
no
other
guests
.
Tom
Davenant
had
caught
some
trout
in
the
river
below
,
their
wine
they
had
brought
from
Seville
,
and
when
dinner
was
served
in
the
immense
dining-room
,
whose
windows
seemed
to
join
the
sheet
of
silver
water
outside
,
they
were
feeling
more
intimate
and
at
home
with
one
another
than
had
been
their
fortune
since
Rupert
's
memory
was
restored
to
him
.
They
resolved
on
spending
the
morrow
in
going
over
church
and
convent
.
The
host
,
in
reply
to
their
inquiries
,
said
they
had
better
cross
in
the
boat
.
It
was
shorter
than
going
back
to
the
bridge
near
Sepúlveda
.
But
there
was
nothing
to
see
,
in
his
opinion
.
The
church
had
lost
its
treasures
;
the
convent
,
he
added
between
his
teeth
,
had
been
given
by
the
clericals
who
now
ruled
Spain
to
some
fresh
order
of
nuns
,
he
could
not
say
whether
black
,
white
,
or
gray
,
—
they
were
nuns
,
that
was
enough
,
—
who
had
got
it
through
the
Queen
's
confessor
three
or
four
years
ago
.
They
were
not
the
old
set
,
he
knew
,
but
they
were
nuns
.
Lady
May
,
who
followed
his
Spanish
more
easily
than
the
others
,
interpreted
to
her
husband
,
hoping
it
would
amuse
him
.
The
Earl
retired
,
and
Tom
Davenant
went
to
make
friends
with
the
ostlers
,
including
the
zagal
or
boy
who
had
run
with
the
horses
from
Seville
,
and
to
smoke
endless
puros
in
true
Spanish
fashion
,
to
the
increase
of
their
good
fellowship
—
for
he
gave
away
as
many
as
he
smoked
.
Rupert
and
his
wife
,
when
they
went
upstairs
,
were
drawn
to
the
window
by
the
splendid
moonlight
which
flooded
the
valley
.
They
stood
a
long
while
looking
out
,
in
silence
.
The
palms
rose
dark
against
the
sky
;
vineyards
and
cornfields
had
put
off
their
bright
green
.
The
lake
was
a
sheet
of
silver
,
on
which
the
reeds
,
trembling
as
the
wind
took
them
,
cast
wavering
shadows
.
San
Lucar
,
with
its
many
roofs
and
massive
sanctuary
,
was
wrapt
in
slumber
,
and
the
moonbeams
glorified
it
like
a
pavilion
whose
curtains
were
drawn
,
and
its
inhabitants
spellbound
,
as
in
the
thousand
and
one
nights
of
Scheherezade
.
The
stillness
was
deeper
,
if
possible
,
than
in
the
day
.
Leaning
her
head
on
Rupert
's
shoulder
,
the
lady
said
at
last
,
'
This
makes
you
happy
,
does
it
not
,
my
artist
?
'
—
'
Happy
?
'
he
replied
.
'
Ah
yes
,
but
not
for
to-morrow
.
Life
's
a
dream
.
'
CHAPTER
XXXV
THE
CRY
FROM
OFF
THE
WATERS
The
Andalusian
air
is
pleasant
in
the
early
morning
,
and
our
travellers
were
stirring
betimes
.
It
was
their
intention
to
cross
the
lake
immediately
after
breakfast
,
but
a
slight
incident
had
almost
put
off
their
expedition
.
Lord
Trelingham
,
fatigued
with
his
three
days
'
journey
in
a
rough
vehicle
,
and
perhaps
feeling
the
languor
which
in
warm
climates
assails
those
who
come
to
the
hills
from
the
city
,
was
unequal
to
the
many
hours
'
exploration
which
might
be
in
store
for
visitors
to
the
convent
.
He
required
a
day
's
rest
.
To
go
without
him
seemed
uninviting
,
for
his
interest
in
the
sanctuary
and
his
antiquarian
knowledge
would
have
lit
up
the
past
they
were
to
study
,
and
a
true
picture
of
which
they
desired
to
take
with
them
from
San
Lucar
.
But
he
would
not
have
them
delay
on
his
account
.
Tom
Davenant
would
bear
him
company
;
Rupert
and
Lady
May
promised
to
return
for
luncheon
when
they
had
visited
the
church
,
leaving
the
convent
for
a
later
inspection
;
and
thus
it
was
arranged
.
The
Earl
saw
his
daughter
and
son-in-law
embark
;
they
declined
the
services
of
a
boatman
,
Lady
May
steering
and
Glanville
taking
the
oars
.
They
carried
a
sail
,
which
they
thought
of
unfurling
on
the
homeward
voyage
.
A
more
lovely
morning
,
clear
,
bright
,
and
breezy
,
could
not
have
been
wished
.
The
waters
flashed
from
the
blade
and
fell
away
in
diamond
streamers
as
they
moved
along
;
the
reeds
shivered
delicately
and
half-bent
into
the
wavelets
which
the
boat
was
making
;
in
a
neighbouring
cover
the
music
of
sweet-throated
song-birds
was
audible
,
and
nearer
and
nearer
came
the
gray
old
convent
,
tranquil
as
in
the
moonlight
,
sacred
,
melancholy
,
peaceful
.
'
I
will
sketch
this
by
and
by
,
'
said
Rupert
.
They
touched
the
gravel
,
landed
,
and
made
their
boat
fast
.
Not
a
soul
met
them
as
they
went
up
'
the
way
of
the
partridges
,
'
as
the
Spaniards
call
a
track
that
can
hardly
be
seen
and
is
wide
enough
only
for
a
bird
's
foot
.
It
led
through
low
brushwood
,
not
far
,
and
they
found
themselves
on
the
broad
,
dusty
terrace
which
they
had
observed
the
evening
before
,
from
Sepúlveda
,
running
like
a
white
thread
round
the
convent
.
Turning
to
the
left
and
going
forward
a
few
steps
they
reached
the
wooden
gates
which
had
been
erected
instead
of
those
battered
down
,
forty
years
ago
,
by
the
wild
gipsy
and
his
companions
that
day
they
sacked
the
cloister
.
No
fear
of
violence
seemed
to
be
felt
now
within
those
walls
.
The
gates
were
open
,
so
too
were
the
doors
of
the
church
.
They
passed
in
and
could
hardly
see
at
first
,
the
roof
was
so
low
and
the
gloom
so
intense
.
It
was
an
exceedingly
ancient
edifice
,
which
had
been
first
Gothic
,
then
Moorish
,
and
then
Christian
again
in
the
course
of
its
thousand
years
.
Built
,
as
it
now
stood
,
chiefly
under
Moslem
influence
,
it
was
a
confused
but
not
unpicturesque
combination
of
the
mosque
and
the
basilica
,
ending
in
a
chancel
of
the
Early
Pointed
style
whose
lancet
windows
almost
touched
one
another
.
Thus
,
on
entering
,
it
appeared
a
forest
of
low
pillars
where
darkness
dwelt
,
with
a
large
and
pure
radiance
in
the
sanctuary
.
There
were
many
side-chapels
,
now
bare
of
gates
and
altars
,
with
narrow
round-headed
windows
,
hardly
admitting
the
light
of
day
.
A
lamp
,
burning
feebly
,
denoted
where
the
shrine
of
San
Lucar
once
had
existed
;
but
its
marbles
,
precious
offerings
,
and
pictures
encrusted
with
gold
,
were
no
more
to
be
seen
.
There
was
a
priest
saying
mass
at
the
tawdry
altar
,
with
only
the
boy
kneeling
behind
him
for
a
congregation
.
The
nave
was
vast
and
desolate
.
Fragments
of
gilded
work
remained
where
the
hands
of
the
despoilers
could
not
reach
them
;
and
the
curious
motley
architecture
,
stained
with
the
dust
of
ages
,
with
the
smoke
of
tapers
borne
in
procession
,
and
the
burning
of
a
hundred
lamps
day
and
night
,
resembled
in
its
intricacy
and
mellowness
the
work
of
Nature
rather
than
of
man
.
It
was
all
matted
together
,
so
to
speak
;
one
style
ran
into
the
next
,
and
a
sudden
turn
revealed
the
old
embedded
in
the
new
like
a
fossil
.
The
grandeur
,
the
solemn
abandonment
,
the
petrified
life
,
had
a
vast
and
penetrating
effect
which
could
neither
be
defined
nor
resisted
.
Man
had
erected
this
magnificent
pile
,
yet
it
spoke
not
so
much
of
man
or
his
works
as
of
the
unknown
influence
that
subdues
and
takes
possession
of
them
while
the
ages
flow
on
.
The
artist
's
pride
was
brought
down
,
his
glory
annihilated
,
and
another
spirit
seemed
to
be
brooding
over
the
creation
which
had
once
been
his
.
Time
,
the
irresistible
;
Change
,
the
magician
;
and
the
world
's
judgment
as
men
hasten
upon
other
paths
,
—
these
had
emptied
the
holy
place
,
and
made
it
a
desolation
,
while
lifting
it
up
into
the
serene
air
of
eternity
.
They
spent
a
long
hour
in
going
from
chapel
to
chapel
,
not
always
seeing
what
was
before
them
,
nor
talking
of
it
,
but
exchanging
,
as
seldom
hitherto
,
their
thoughts
on
the
manifold
ideals
which
have
gleamed
as
out
of
a
cloud
upon
humankind
,
and
,
shedding
momentary
light
,
have
vanished
again
.
At
intervals
they
heard
the
sound
of
a
bell
,
denoting
that
mass
was
going
on
at
the
various
altars
;
they
made
way
more
than
once
for
a
priest
who
moved
by
them
across
the
nave
,
in
vestment
and
alb
,
carrying
the
chalice
.
They
could
hear
faintly
when
a
great
door
was
opened
or
shut
in
the
convent
itself
;
and
by
degrees
they
came
through
the
forest
of
pillars
to
the
Trascoro
,
with
its
railing
of
wood
instead
of
the
bronze
gates
that
had
been
torn
away
,
and
its
white
walls
on
which
neither
painting
nor
ornament
was
visible
.
No
Madonna
of
the
Seraphim
hung
above
the
high
altar
;
saints
and
angels
had
spread
their
lustrous
wings
and
were
fled
.
The
pictured
glass
had
been
struck
into
fragments
by
Colonel
Valence
's
soldiery
,
and
was
now
replaced
by
the
commonest
sort
,
into
which
a
shred
or
two
of
colour
,
still
flamboyant
,
had
been
introduced
,
as
a
reminiscence
of
that
which
could
never
be
restored
.
It
was
a
comfortless
chancel
,
not
inviting
to
pray
;
and
the
light
,
though
pure
,
seemed
too
large
.
Naturally
they
paused
a
long
while
in
front
of
the
altar
.
'
Here
,
'
said
Rupert
,
'
your
face
was
visible
for
two
hundred
years
,
as
in
the
clouds
of
heaven
.
Were
one
of
the
old
sisters
to
come
alive
now
and
see
you
,
she
would
fancy
the
Madonna
of
the
Seraphim
had
descended
from
the
wall
.
'
As
he
spoke
,
and
while
he
went
on
to
explain
the
peculiarities
of
the
style
,
he
raised
his
voice
occasionally
,
for
nothing
tires
so
much
as
a
whispered
conversation
.
From
time
to
time
he
turned
to
look
down
the
church
.
At
the
great
door
a
flood
of
morning
light
poured
in
.
The
nave
was
still
empty
;
but
kneeling
to
his
left
,
not
far
from
the
altar-rails
,
in
the
shadow
of
clustering
columns
,
was
a
figure
draped
in
black
from
head
to
foot
,
whose
attention
had
been
caught
by
the
voice
of
the
stranger
,
and
whose
face
,
bordered
by
a
long
white
veil
,
was
now
fixed
upon
his
with
overpowering
astonishment
.
He
returned
the
look
for
a
full
half
minute
in
complete
stupor
.
Lady
May
was
examining
the
chancel
,
and
her
face
was
turned
from
him
.
'
Good
God
,
'
he
said
,
grasping
her
arm
,
'
who
is
that
?
'
'
Who
?
'
said
Lady
May
,
turning
round
.
The
colour
was
gone
out
of
his
cheeks
;
he
stood
bewildered
.
Ere
he
could
recover
,
and
while
Lady
May
was
still
uncertain
of
his
meaning
,
the
black-draped
figure
rose
hastily
and
disappeared
round
the
column
.
They
heard
swift
steps
,
the
sound
of
an
opening
door
,
and
its
recoil
upon
its
hinges
again
.
Glanville
without
a
moment
's
pause
,
when
he
saw
the
figure
retreating
,
followed
it
.
He
ran
to
the
first
door
in
the
side
aisle
,
pulled
it
violently
open
,
and
beheld
the
unknown
woman
moving
fast
along
the
narrow
passage
in
which
he
was
now
alone
with
her
.
There
was
a
turning
,
and
the
steps
fled
round
it
;
still
Rupert
followed
.
A
number
of
cells
lined
the
passage
on
both
sides
,
and
a
large
door
at
the
end
standing
open
showed
the
lake
and
the
distant
side
of
the
valley
.
It
was
impossible
the
nun
should
escape
him
.
She
reached
the
last
cell
,
—
it
was
a
guest-room
or
parlour
,
—
entered
it
,
and
stood
palpitating
with
frantic
terror
as
Glanville
rushed
in
,
and
falling
at
her
feet
,
clasping
her
robe
,
kissing
the
hands
she
would
fain
have
withheld
from
him
,
cried
,
like
a
man
out
of
himself
,
'
Hippolyta
,
Hippolyta
,
have
I
found
you
?
In
mercy
speak
.
Tell
me
I
am
not
mad
.
'
'
You
are
not
mad
,
'
said
the
nun
faintly
;
'
I
am
Hippolyta
.
'
It
was
no
other
.
Lost
so
long
,
vanished
so
suddenly
,
she
was
found
in
a
moment
,
thus
.
He
sank
speechless
to
the
ground
.
He
did
not
swoon
.
His
eyes
,
like
those
of
a
wounded
animal
,
looked
up
at
her
.
After
a
minute
and
more
,
when
he
could
speak
,
he
said
pityingly
,
breathlessly
,
'
What
has
become
of
your
golden
hair
?
It
was
so
beautiful
.
Why
do
you
hide
it
under
that
veil
?
'
He
seemed
to
think
of
nothing
else
but
this
.
'
I
have
cut
it
off
,
'
the
nun
replied
in
a
low
voice
.
When
he
heard
the
words
,
tears
came
into
his
eyes
.
'
I
saw
a
woman
in
the
hospital
that
they
told
me
had
golden
hair
,
'
he
murmured
,
'
when
I
was
looking
for
you
the
first
night
;
but
they
had
never
seen
yours
,
Hippolyta
,
or
they
would
not
have
said
so
.
The
woman
came
back
when
I
was
ill
,
when
I
had
brain
fever
.
She
was
dead
then
,
I
think
.
Her
name
was
Annie
Dauris
.
Her
hair
was
not
like
yours
,
Hippolyta
.
Why
did
you
cut
it
off
?
Are
you
a
nun
?
'
He
spoke
,
hardly
knowing
what
he
said
,
in
low
uncertain
tones
.
'
Oh
,
must
I
suffer
this
again
!
'
cried
Hippolyta
in
agony
,
her
eyes
streaming
.
'
Rupert
,
Rupert
,
be
a
man
.
I
have
left
you
,
I
am
nothing
to
you
.
Are
you
not
married
?
