"They have gone!" Arthur exclaimed as he ran upstairs.
"Gone?"
"Yes! horse, foot, and baggage."
"Exit Don Carlos!" the count shouted. "Yesterday he literally had the game in his hands, to-day he has thrown it away. There, girls, please each make a curtsy to Don Arthur, he has saved Spain."
"What ridiculous nonsense, Leon!" Arthur said almost angrily.
"It is good sober sense, and not nonsense at all. Don Carlos had no doubt been assured that he had only to elude the armies in the field and show himself before Madrid, when the town would open its gates to him, and the authorities come out to surrender the capital. The fact that the troops sallied out and attacked his cavalry has completely overthrown his hopes. I believe that the town would have surrendered without resistance if he had marched straight on yesterday. To-day it would have fought, but it could not have offered any strong resistance. The walls are rotten, and the Carlist cannon would have made a breach in them in no time. In fact, I don't suppose they would have troubled to do that, but would have carried the place by storm. Now the chance has gone, and for ever; for after this fiasco he will never be able to persuade the mountaineers to make this long march again. They may go on fighting for a long time before the thing is over, but we shall never see the Carlist army before Madrid again. Call it a happy inspiration if you like, my friend, but it was a happy inspiration that saved the Christino cause."
An hour later a royal messenger came to the house, saying that on calling at the English officer's lodging he was told that he should probably find him at Count de Balen's, and that the queen regent desired his attendance at the palace.
"I have led my first and last sortie," Arthur exclaimed in a tone of despair. "As far as I am concerned, the Carlists may occupy Madrid without my moving from my rooms to prevent them. Was there ever such a fuss made over such a ridiculous affair? Still, I suppose I must go."
"Of course you must go," Leon said. "Don't be foolish, Arthur! You can insist on getting off being thanked by Mercedes and me, but there is no getting off being thanked by the queen."
With a shrug of the shoulders Arthur went down-stairs and, mounting his horse, rode by the side of the mounted messenger to the palace. Here he was at once escorted to the apartment of the queen regent. A number of her ministers were gathered there. By her side was the little Queen Isabella, a child of between five and six years old. Her minister of war stepped forward, and, taking Arthur's hand, led him up to the two queens.