As the shadows deepened on the garden walks there came another footstep through the quinta towards the porch, a footstep very different from the one that had come before, a heavy, plodding footstep, as of one out of whose life the light and strength had departed, but Magdalen started up as she heard it, a smile beaming out from her eyes. That step, though so heavy, was lighter than she had heard it for many a long day, it was her father's step, and he was bringing her the good news of which he had spoken to her. She ran out to meet him with a flush of pleasure on her face.
"Ah! Chica," said he gaily; "how has the long day passed with you?"
And when he saw Marcelino, who stood on the step of the porch waiting for him, he stretched out his hand to him with greater cordiality than was his wont.
"Felicidades!" he said. "In the city every one is asking for you. The general idea is that you are with your mother at the quinta."
"I went there last night," replied Marcelino. "But what has happened? I hardly know anything."
"Then you had better return to the quinta, there you will learn all. A large party has gone out there this evening in search of you. Don't be frightened, Chica," he added, as Magdalen started while she clung to his arm, "all are now friends, and Don Martin Alzaga is in prison."
"And my father, what of him?" asked Marcelino.
At this question Don Alfonso frowned, but he answered gravely:
"Your father is more astute than I thought him; he has managed in some way to keep well with all parties."
"Did not I tell you so?" said Magdalen, with a bright smile. "Don Roderigo would never join a conspiracy against the Viceroy. Don Fausto said that he was his best friend."