"Impossible, while Donna Olivia is present."
"Look at that officer of Villamur's regiment,—a handsome cavalier; he bows. How do you do, Pedro? What can that old knight of Calatrava be whispering to the rich widow of the Calle Mayor. Ah, I would give the world to know! How they smile at each other. Love must be very agreeable. Santos! I have dropped my fan. Quick, senor; pick it up, before the feet of the dancers—— A thousand thanks," she added, as Ronald restored it to her. "I would not have it destroyed for the universe,—'tis a present from Don Carlos Avallo: he, too, is looking this way. How d'ye do, Carlos?" and thus did Olivia run on during all the intervals between the figures of the dance.
No sooner was the quadrille over, than the galopade was proposed.
"Viva la galopade! cavaliers," cried Cameron, striking his hands together. Lisle still kept Virginia, and Ronald her gay sister, and all the cavaliers of Old and New Castile grew hot with indignation and jealousy. Away flew the dancers to the crash of music from the orchestra. The scene was indeed glorious. A hundred couples went round hand in hand, plumes waving, ear-rings trembling, jewels and epaulets, stars and medals flashing and glittering, spurs and poniards clanking, the light feet and muslin drapery of the graceful Spanish girls flying about and mingling with the buckled shoes and dark green tartans of the Highlanders. Bravo! It was beautiful.
The dance was over, and the ladies, breathless and overcome, with bosoms panting, cheeks blushing, and eyes sparkling, clung to the arms of their cavaliers, who led them through the open casements to promenade in the cool gardens, where the female waiters, little sylph-like girls about twelve or fifteen years old, clad in white, with their black curls streaming about, glided through the illuminated arbours and walks, handing ices to the ladies, and cool and sparkling champagne or Malaga to the gentlemen. When promenading with Olivia through one of the beautiful walks, from each side of which he was constantly culling fresh flowers for her bouquet, Ronald heard familiar voices conversing in an orange-bower, the interior of which was brilliantly illuminated with parti-coloured lamps.
"Yes, sir; we turned their flank, and fell upon them with the bayonet, and with God's help cut to pieces every mother's son of them in five minutes," said Campbell within the bower, striking his heavy hand emphatically on the seat; adding afterwards in another tone, "Most excellent champagne this, Don Ascasibur, and much obliged we are to the ex-king of Spain for leaving it here to be drunk by better men."
"Satanas take the ex-king!" replied Yñürritegui. "And so it was as you tell, that this very noble old cavalier was slain?"
"Ay, sir; the shot struck him here, and he fell sword in hand from his saddle. A gallant fellow was Sir Ralph, and under his command I was initiated into all the sublime mysteries of soldiery."
"Campbell has been fighting Egypt over again to my patron," thought Stuart. "Major," said he, looking in, "how can you and Don Ascasibur be so ungallant as to forsake the ladies for champagne flasks? Fie upon you! senores."
"The ladies will not break their hearts: such a fright old Yñürritegui is!" whispered Olivia behind her fan.