Then she went into the hall, and found d’Aguilar looking at an illuminated Book of Hours in which she had been reading, that was written in Spanish in one column and in Latin in that opposite. He greeted her in his usual graceful way, that, where Margaret was concerned, was easy and well-bred without being bold, and said at once:
“So you read Spanish, Señora?”
“A little. Not very well, I fear.”
“And Latin also?”
“A little again. I have been taught that tongue. By studying them thus I try to improve myself in both.”
“I perceive that you are learned as you are beautiful,” and he bowed courteously.
“I thank you, Señor; but I lay claim to neither grace.”
“What need is there to claim that which is evident?” replied d’Aguilar; then added, “But I forgot, I have brought you a present, if you will be pleased to accept it. Or, rather, I bring you what is your own, or at the least your father’s. I bargained with his Excellency Don de Ayala, pointing out that fifty gold angels were too much to pay for that dead rogue of his; but he would give me nothing back in money, since with gold he never parts. Yet I won some change from him, and it stands without your door. It is a Spanish jennet of the true Moorish blood, which, hundreds of years ago, that people brought with them from the East. He needs it no longer, as he returns to Spain, and it is trained to bear a lady.” Margaret did not know what to answer, but, fortunately, at that moment her father appeared, and to him d’Aguilar repeated his tale, adding that he had heard his daughter say that the horse she rode had fallen with her, so that she could use it no more.
Now, Castell did not wish to accept this gift, for such he felt it to be; but d’Aguilar assured him that if he did not he must sell it and return him the price in money, as it did not belong to him. So, there being no help for it, he thanked him in his daughter’s name and his own, and they went into the stable-yard, whither it had been taken, to look at this horse.
The moment that Castell saw it he knew that it was a creature of great value, pure white in colour, with a long, low body, small head, gentle eyes, round hoofs, and flowing mane and tail, such a horse, indeed, as a queen might have ridden. Now again he was confused, being sure that this beast had never been given back as a luck-penny, since it would have fetched more than the fifty angels on the market; moreover, it was harnessed with a woman’s saddle and bridle of the most beautifully worked red Cordova leather, to which were attached a silver bit and stirrup. But d’Aguilar smiled, and vowed that things were as he had told them, so there was nothing more to be said. Margaret, too, was so pleased with the mare, which she longed to ride, that she forgot her scruples, and tried to believe that this was so. Noting her delight, which she could not conceal as she patted the beautiful beast, d’Aguilar said: