About three days' more travel brought them at dusk to his father's house. The father and mother were sitting at the door of their house, enjoying the freshness of the evening air, for it was the summer season. They all approached together, and Antonio spoke first to his father. "Is there by chance in this place a hospital for pilgrims, sir?" he asked. "As our inhabitants are good Christians," replied the father, "every house is an hospital for pilgrims, and if no other should be so, mine, as far as it goes, may serve for you all."

"Is not this place called Quintanas de la Orden, sir," asked Antonio; "and does not a person live here called by some a gentleman of the name of Villaseñores? I ask you this, because I knew a man of this name in far distant countries, and if he was here, neither I nor my companions need go anywhere for a lodging."

"And what was the name of this Villaseñores of whom you speak?" asked the mother.

"He was called Antonio," replied Antonio, "and his father's name was, if I remember right, Diego de Villaseñor."

"Ah, sir!" cried the mother, rising from her seat, "and to my sorrow it is now seventeen years that he has been missing from his native land. How many tears, sighs, and prayers, have been exhausted for his restoration to me; would to God that these eyes may ever again behold him, before they are closed in eternal night. Tell me, is it long since you saw him? is it long since you left him? was he in good health? did he talk of returning home? does he remember his parents, to whom he may now come back, for he has no enemies to hinder his doing so. Those who caused his departure from his own country, are now friends."

The old father listened to all these words, and then called aloud to his servants to bring lights, and to admit into the house the pilgrim guests, and going up to his as yet unknown son, he embraced him closely, saying, "For your sake alone I would gladly give you all lodging, even though it were not my custom to receive pilgrims, but now this glad tidings that you have brought increases my inclination to do so, and makes me doubly desirous to serve you."

By this time the servants had brought lights, and shown the pilgrims into the house; and from the middle of a spacious court, which they entered, came forth two pretty and well-mannered young girls, sisters of Antonio, who had both been born since he went away. They were charmed with the beauty of Auristella, and the loveliness of Constance, their niece, also with the pleasant looks of their sister-in-law, Ricla. They could not sufficiently load them with blessings and embraces; but when they expected to see their father enter with the new guests, they saw a confused crowd of people come in also, bringing on their shoulders, upon a seat, a seemingly dead man, whom they knew at once to be the count, who had inherited the estates of him who once had been their brother's enemy. The tumult of the crowd, the confusion that their parents were in, and the care of receiving their new guests embarrassed them so much that they knew not whom to turn to, nor whom to ask for the cause of all this disturbance. Their parents had the count brought in; he was shot through the shoulders with a ball in an affray between two parties of soldiers, who were lodged in the town, and the townspeople; the ball had passed through into his breast, and on seeing himself wounded, he had ordered his servants to carry him to the house of Diego de Villaseñor, his friend, and he was brought thither exactly at the very moment when he was about to offer hospitality to his son, his daughter-in-law, and his two grand-children, and to Periander and Auristella. She, taking Antonio's sisters by the hand, prayed that they would take her away from all the tumult, and allow her to rest in some apartment where she might be alone. They did as she desired, not without again admiring her peerless beauty.

Constance, who felt the force of kindred blood animate her heart, neither wished nor would separate from her aunts, who were both of the same age, and of equal beauty. The same feelings actuated the boy Antonio, who, forgetful of all the laws of good breeding and the obligations he owed to his hosts, was so bold in his delight as to embrace one of his aunts, which a servant of the family seeing, said, "For your life, sir pilgrim, keep your hands quiet, for the master of this house is not a man to be trifled with, and you will have to beat a retreat in spite of your shameless behaviour."

"By Heaven, my friend," answered the boy, "this that I have done is very little to what I intend doing, if Heaven favours my wish, which is to be at the service of these fair ladies, and all those of the house."

Meanwhile the wounded man had been placed in a rich bed, and two surgeons called in, who staunched the blood and examined the wound, which they pronounced mortal, and beyond all human remedies. The whole town was in arms against the soldiers, who had marched out into the country in battle array, ready to fight if the people came out to attack them. For some time, little availed the anxiety of the commanding officers to restore peace, nor the Christian cares of the priests and monks of the town, the people of which, a light cause will easily excite and rouse into commotion. However, day came, and the soldiers were made to march off by their officers, and the townspeople were persuaded to remain within the town, in spite of the bad feeling and anger the soldiers had excited.

By slow degrees, little by little, Antonio discovered himself to his parents, and presented to them their two grand-children and daughter-in-law, whom they received with many tears. The beauty of Auristella, and the grace of Periander, gained admiration from all eyes and hearts. This pleasure, as unexpected as it was great,—this unlooked-for arrival of his son and his family, interrupted, and for a time almost did away with the sad misfortune of the count, who grew worse and worse every hour; however, he presented his children to him, and anew offered him the services of the whole family, and everything that could be required for his comfort and convenience; for although he had wished to remove to his own house, it would not have been possible, so slight were the hopes of his recovery.

Auristella and Constance never left his bedside, but, moved by Christian compassion and kindness, made themselves his nurses, against the desire of the surgeons, who ordered him to be left alone, or at least not attended by the women. But Heaven, that directs and disposes all things in a manner which we cannot fathom, so ordered it in this case, that the count's last hour drawing nigh, he one day, before he took a final leave of them all, sent for Diego de Villaseñor, and when they were alone together, spoke to him thus:—"I left home intending to go to Rome this year, in which the supreme Pontiff has opened the ark of the Church's treasure, and made known to us as in a holy year, the infinite graces that are to be obtained thereby. I meant to travel expeditiously, but as a poor pilgrim, rather than as a rich gentleman. I entered this town, found an affray going on, as you have heard, between the soldiers who were lodging in it, and the inhabitants: I mingled with them, and in trying to save the lives of others, have lost my own, for this wound so treacherously dealt, as I may say, will in a short time end my existence. I do not know by whose hand it was given, for in these popular tumults all is confusion. My death will not grieve me, unless it should be the cause of that of others, either for justice, or to avenge mine. Nevertheless, to do all that is in my power, I here say that I forgive my murderer, and all who may have been guilty with him; and I also desire to show my gratitude for all the kindness I have received in your house, and the mark I wish to give will be the very greatest you can possibly imagine. In the two chests, which you see here, which contain my wardrobe, I believe I have as much as twenty thousand ducats in gold and in jewels, which do not take up much room; and if this sum, instead of being so small, was as great as the mines of Potosí contain, I would do the same with it as I am now doing. Take it then, or rather make the lady Constance your grand-daughter, take it, for I give it............