In Northern Spain there are many who are called Carlists, and who believe that the descendants of Don Carlos are the lawful kings of Spain, and these have often gotten up revolutions and tried to set their own favourites up as kings.
In Barcelona and some of the eastern provinces there are many who like neither King Alphonso nor Don Carlos, and these are anarchists; but Granada was heart and soul for the king, and all the people were overjoyed at his coming.
Every balcony in the city was covered with flowers; flags and banners floated everywhere. The Alameda was ablaze with decorations, and every face wore a smile of welcome. The programme for the day was a simple one. The king was to be met at the station by a delegation, a band, and a mounted escort, witness a military review on the Alameda, and depart by an afternoon train. All Granada must see him, and Fernando and Juanita with it.
It had been decided that the best time for the children to have a good look at the king was when he drove to the Alhambra, and Manuel and Dolores started early to take them to meet Antonio, who had promised to provide places within the Alhambra grounds, where the general multitude would be less likely to go, and where the children would have a finer view. Pablo went with them, for he was still at home, and he walked beside Babieca to see that Juanita did not fall off, on her long ride up-hill.
"See there, little sister," he said. "Is not that an easy way to get milk for the day?"
The goatherd was passing at the head of his procession of goats, looking neither to the right nor to the left, expecting his herd to follow him as gravely as he walked; but a peasant woman stole out of her door, and quietly milked one of the little beasts, who seemed not to object in the least, and took it so calmly that Pablo added, "That is not the first time there has been stolen milk for breakfast, I'm sure."
"See the poor beggar; do give him something, Pablo," said Juanita, touched by a wretched specimen of humanity who sat with blind eyes peering up at them as they passed. Pablo threw a perro chico into the beggar's outstretched hand, but he said:
"You must not be too sad for all the beggars, niña; there is an old rhyme:
"'The armless man has written a letter,
The blind man finds the writing clear;