A Knight of Spain

Three young men were walking through one of the quietest streets of
Alcalà .

Their rich appointments and courteous demeanour marked them as belonging
to the noble youths who studied at the University of Alcalà , which was as
learned as Salamanca, and more fashionable, and gave a great air of
dignity to the little town on the Henares, which, now in the height of
its fame, consisted of streets of palaces, convents and colleges huddled
together in massive splendour behind the old walls.

It was midsummer, the air was tremulous with heat, and low, purple black
clouds rolled up from the plains towards Madrid; beneath them shot the
last rays of the fierce sun that ended in a glow of dun light on the
white walls and coloured shutters of the silent houses of the silent
street through which the three youths were walking in leisurely fashion,
two of them with their arms interlinked and talking together, the third a
little in advance with his eyes on the ground and his arms folded on his
chest.

At the corner of the street stood a handsome palace surrounded by a
courtyard in which grew laurels and ilex. Before this the three stopped
and gazed through the light yet strong iron railing that divided them
from the mansion. A strange glowing light fell on the house that fully
faced the west, and the domes and towers rose golden white against the
deepening purple of the thundrous sky.

A little hot breeze, the forerunner of a storm, stirred the stiff boughs
of the laurel and slightly shook the crimson drapery of an open upper
window.

It was towards this window that the three young men looked, for it
belonged to the apartment of the lady, Doña Aña Santofimia y Munatones,
who was decided to be the most beautiful in Alcalà , and who was the
object of the interest of every youth in the University, though none of
them had ever spoken to her or seen her nearer than across the space of
her father's courtyard.

Before her window was a balcony on which stood three pots of pink roses,
now in full bloom, and a bowl of growing basil that cast its feathery
shadow over the white wall.

More from habit than earnest feeling the three students lingered to catch
a glimpse of the beauty.

Presently she appeared, lifting the crimson curtain, and holding a pair
of gilt scissors, on which the strong light gleamed.

She wore a white skirt and a violet jacket fastened with green buttons;
over her head was a muslin shawl with a silver fringe.

She came out on to the balcony and cut the withered leaves from the rose
bushes, scattering them on the hot air, where they fluttered a second and
sank.

Once she looked towards the gate where the three stood, but her face was
expressionless. The sun was rapidly being absorbed by the oncoming storm;
a low roll of thunder sounded and the dark clouds closed menacingly over
the city.