“Are the horses ready?” asked Pedro, quickly, as his groom appeared.
“They are ready, sire.”
“And the guard, Fernando?”
“In their saddles, sire.”
“Garcia, we will take a hasty meal ere starting,” said Pedro, leading the way to a small dining-hall which opened on the court.
Scarcely were they seated at a table by the window, when Garcia sprung to his feet, and pointed to the opposite corridor where the dowager and the chancellor were seen moving toward them.
“They turn to the left, Garcia; they do not seek us. How soon shall we reach Madrigala?”
“By four o’clock, if the night holds clear, and we meet with no obstruction.”
“When saidst thou did Maria arrive at Montalban?”
“The third day back, sire.”