It was the lower story of the central building, or keep, and was constructed, in the most massive manner, out of vast blocks of rough-hewn stone. The apartment was about fifty feet in length, twenty-five in width, and twelve in height. On either side there were openings into chambers or passage-ways. The roof was vaulted, and at the farther end of the apartment there was a stairway constructed of the same cyclopean stones as the rest of the edifice. All the stone-work here visible had the same ponderous character, and seemed formed to last for many centuries to come.
Around the sides of this lower hall were suspended arms and accoutrements. There were also rude massive benches, upon which were flung rugs and blankets. Here and there were little groups, not only of men, but also of women and children. On the left side there was an enormous chimney, which was large enough for a separate chamber. In this a fire was burning, and a woman was attending to the cooking of a savory stew. An aromatic smell of coffee was diffusing itself through the atmosphere; and this was surrounded and intermingled with the stronger and ranker, though less pungent, odors of the stew aforesaid.
The priest flung himself carelessly into a seat near a massive oaken table, and the Carlist chief took a seat beside him. The priest questioned the chief very closely as to his doings, and the disposition of his people through the country, while the chief surveyed the priest furtively and cautiously.
At last he said, abruptly,
"You were on the train yesterday."
"I was," replied the priest, coolly.
"Why did you not tell me who you were?"
"What a question to ask!" said the priest. "Don't you understand? When I am out I don't want any one to know or suspect. I did not choose to tell even you. Why should I? I didn't know you."
"But you lost your purse," said the chief, in rather a humble voice.
"And was there much in it?" asked the Priest.