"You are your own trumpeter," said Sofía laughing.
"If there are still heroes to be found you are one of them," said Cárlos with eager admiration for his brother.
"Well, set to work now, noble Demi-god," said Sofía, "crown your achievement by working a miracle, and restore to sight a man blind from his birth.—Look, there is Don Francisco coming out to meet us."
And, in fact, mounting the ridge which shuts in the mines to the west, they had come to Aldeacorba, and past the house of Penáguilas, who, pulling on his coat in the utmost haste now came hurrying towards them. Darkness was falling fast.
[CHAPTER XI.]
THE PATRIARCH OF ALDEACORBA.
"The cows are just being milked," he began, without wishing them good-evening. "I thought you would all like some milk. I hope to see you well, Señora Sofía—and you Don Teodoro. The sight of you is good for sore eyes. But what is the matter with María Canela—a little lame paw? How long have you been so spoiled, little one?"
The whole party turned into the court-yard. They could hear the deep lowing of the cows, which had just been driven to their stables, and the homely sound, with the fresh country smell of the hay, which the laborers were carrying from the lofts, soothed the senses and the mind. The doctor seated Nela on a stone bench, while she, speechless with surprise and respect, dared not budge an inch, but could only wonder at this delightful state of things.
"And where is Pablo?" the engineer enquired.
"He is just gone down into the garden," said Señor de Penáguilas, as he offered Sofía a rustic seat. "You might run off and join him Nela."