Like the duke, this unworthy hidalgo was a renegade, and had been created by Joseph Buonaparte Count of Aranjuez, and Colmenare de Orija, and knight of the Stole,—an ancient order instituted by the kings of Arragon. He greeted Lisle coldly enough. They had met before at Aranjuez, where he bore the name of Felix Joaquin, of the order of Calatrava; for true Spaniards refused to acknowledge the titles he bore from the usurper's hand. The donna behaved with the same affability to him as to the other guests, being unwilling to let him perceive that she understood his attentions; but the delight of Louis at again beholding her and conversing with her, was clouded by chagrin and anger. He soon became aware that the open and intrusive attentions of the ci-devant condé were licensed by the approbation of the old duke.
The dinner passed over quietly enough. Military matters were avoided by all but one little Gascon major, who found it impossible to refrain from detailing to Lisle, with evident exultation, an account of Soult's forcing the passes of Maya and Roncesvalles on the 25th July,—affairs from which, if the numerical force on each side is considered, but very little honour accrues to France. Encouraged by the applause of his own officers, who were evidently quizzing him, the little Gascon entertained the company with an account of his own particular exploits at Maya, where, by his own tale, he had three horses shot under him. One anecdote did not fail to interest Lisle. He stated, that on a party of a Scots regiment, (sans culottes,) who hurled large stones on the 105th, he took terrible vengeance, by mounting the rock, which they possessed, and putting them to death with his own hand!
"Sacre!" said he, as he concluded, "Sauve qui peut was the word; but not one of the fierce sans culottes escaped!"
Donna Virginia said she would excuse the major his ungenerous triumph, as she believed these were the greatest victories the French had ever won in Spain. The duke frowned; the count would have done so too, had gallantry permitted him; the little major looked big, and twirled up his moustaches; while his subs, like well-bred cavaliers, laughed as in duty bound at the young lady's retort. On Lisle inquiring for Donna Olivia, Virginia blushed, and tears glittered in her dark eyes; while her father replied coldly that she had retired to a convent in Galicia, but did not add that it was to the monasterio de los Arrepentidas, he had so ruthlessly consigned her.
As soon as dinner was over, Virginia withdrew, and cigars, wine, and gaming-tables were introduced. The duke and his intended son-in-law sat down to chess, at which they were as great enthusiasts as the celebrated Don Pedro Carrera[*] himself, while the Frenchmen took to trictrac, and quickly became absorbed in all the mystery of tour à bas—tour d'une, &c. &c.; but Lisle, who had neither money nor inclination to gamble, begged to be excused, and withdrew, receiving as he retired a keen glance from the count, to whom he replied by another of contempt, for rivals soon discover each other. Louis again returned to his solitary promenade on the lower works of the fortress, and continued to pace among the cannon and pyramids of shot which lined the stockades, until he heard his name called, and by a voice which he should have known amongst ten thousand. "Luiz! Don Luiz!"
[*] A Spaniard, who in 1617 published a treatise on the origin of chess, carrying its antiquity back to the era of the Trojan war.
"Virginia!" cried he; and springing to the grated loop at the base of the keep, he kissed the little hand she extended towards him.
"Retire now, senor," said she.
"Ah, why so soon?" said Louis. "But you must not senor me,—it sounds so distant."
"Mi querida, then."