Upon which the attentive deputation retired and we were left in peace.
It was indeed glorious to see the blue unclouded sky, to find the cold winds departed, summer reigning once more. How changed the aspect of Gerona. How all the wonderful colouring came out, the effects of light and shadow, under the sunshine. H. C. arrived just as we left the hotel, and together we went to the bridge where we had stood not many hours ago under the stars.
It almost seemed as though we had gone through years of experience since then. This morning everything was bright and animated. The river now flashed and sparkled and reflected brilliant, broken outlines. The old houses looked older than ever in this youthful atmosphere, but seemed warmed into life. They now appeared quite habitable, almost cheerful. The towers standing above and beyond them were pencilled against the blue sky. The very air seemed full of sun-flashes. In the boulevard the trees in the sunshine made wonderful play of light and shade upon the white houses. The arcades lost their gloom. Every one seemed to rejoice and expand. No people are so responsive to atmosphere as the Spanish. Warmth and sunshine are more necessary to them than food and sleep. They are hot-house plants.
Towards ten o'clock we made our way up the street of steps to the barracks. The scene was much the same as yesterday; conscription was not yet over. We were evidently expected, and a sentry at once conducted us to the colonel's office.
"I knew you would come," he cried, with quite an English handshake. "Your interests are not of the butterfly nature, passing with the moment. And see; here is our disconsolate widow. Now you have come, we will talk to her."
We easily recognised the forlorn mother of yesterday's little drama. She was quietly seated in a chair, her mantilla drawn closely about her, a pathetic image of grief.
"Oh, señor Colonel, it is useless," she said. "Hope is dead and my heart broken. Heaven has seen fitting to afflict me at all points. I have lost my husband, my position; I am poor and in misery; my eldest son turns out a disgrace; my remaining consolation is torn from me by the cruel conscription. Nothing is left for me but to die."