'So near,' replied the Innkeeper, 'that they are now arriving.'
Hearing this, Dorothea veiled her face, and Cardenio went into Don Quixote's room; and they had hardly time to do this when the whole party, of whom the Innkeeper had spoken, entered the Inn. The four who were on horseback were of comely and gallant bearing, and, having dismounted, went to help down the Lady on the side-saddle; and one of them, taking her in his arms, placed her upon a chair that stood at the door of the room into which Cardenio had entered. All this while neither she nor they took off their masks, or said a word, only the Lady, as she sank into the chair, breathed a deep sigh, and let fall her arms as one who was sick and faint. The lackeys led away the horses to the stable.
The Curate, seeing and noting all this, and curious to know who they were that came to the Inn in such strange attire and keeping so close a silence, went after one of the lackeys, and asked of him what he wanted to learn.
'Faith, Sir, I cannot tell you who these are, but they seem to be persons of good quality, especially he who went to help the Lady dismount. The rest obey him in all things.'
'And the Lady—who is she?' asked the Curate.
'I cannot tell you that neither,' replied the lackey, 'for I have not once seen her face during all the journey, though I have often heard her groan and utter deep sighs.'
'And have you heard the name of any of them?' asked the Curate.
'Not I, indeed,' replied the man; 'they travel in silence, and nothing is heard but the sighs and sobs of the poor Lady, and it is our firm belief that, wherever she is going, she is going against her will.'
'May be it is so,' said the Curate, and he returned to the Inn.