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Whilst the party above |
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Whilst the party above-stairs hurried to the windows, and endeavoured to discern who it was that disturbed them in so unceremonious a manner, a servant opened the small grated wicket in the centre of the door, and enquired the stranger's pleasure.
"Is the Conde de Villabuena at home?" demanded the horseman. "I must see him instantly."
"The name of your Senoria," enquired the domestic.
"It is unnecessary. Say that I have a message to him from friends at Madrid."
The servant disappeared, and in another moment his place was occupied by a grave, stern-looking man, between fifty and sixty years of age.
"I am Count Villabuena," said he; "what is your business?"
The stranger bent forward over his horse's mane, so as to bring his face close to the wicket, and uttered three words in a tone audible only to the count, who replied to them by an exclamation of surprise. The door was immediately opened, and Villabuena stood beside the horseman.
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