Gallardo felt perturbed by the lady's presence. What a woman! What would she say to him?...
He saw that she held out a delicate, scented hand, and in his bewilderment he only knew that he seized and pressed it in the strong grasp used to overthrowing bulls. But the hand, so white and pink, was not crushed in the rough involuntary grip, which would have made another cry out with pain, but after a strong clasp it disengaged itself easily.
"I thank you much for having come. Delighted to know you."
And Gallardo, in his flurry, feeling that he must answer something, stammered as if he were speaking to an amateur:
"Thanks; and the family, quite well?"
A little ripple of laughter from Doña Sol was lost in the clatter of the hoofs, in the noise of their first start. The lady put her horse to a trot, and the cavalcade of riders followed her, Gallardo, unable to get over his stupefaction, bringing up the rear, feeling dimly that he had made a fool of himself.
They galloped through the outskirts of Seville alongside the river leaving the Torre Del Oro[77] behind them and then on through the shady gardens strewn with yellow sand, till they reached a road bordered on either side by small taverns and eating-houses.
When they arrived at Tablada, they saw on the green plain a large concourse of people and carriages drawn up close to the palisades which separated the meadow from the animals' enclosure.
The broad stream of the Guadalquivir rolled along the edge of the pasture; on the opposite side rose the hill of San Juan de Aznalfarache, crowned by its ruined castle, and many white country houses peeped out from among the silver grey of the olive trees. On the opposite side of the wide horizon, on which a few woolly clouds were floating, lay Seville, the line of its houses dominated by the imposing mass of the Cathedral, and the marvellous Giralda, dyed a tender pink in the evening light.
The riders advanced with no little trouble among the moving crowd. The curiosity inspired by Doña Sol's originalities had attracted all the ladies of Seville. Her friends saluted her as she passed their carriages, thinking she looked very beautiful in her manly dress. Her relations, the Marquis's daughters, some unmarried, others accompanied by their husbands, recommended prudence.