This becomes most distinctly perceptible in war." "That is true," declared the valet, "and your lordship has surely hit the right clew.

For"-- he glanced cautiously around him and lowered his voice--"whenever I put on my master's armour I always feel how he is trembling--yes, trembling, your lordship.

His face is livid, and the drops of perspiration on his brow are not due solely to the heat." "And then," cried Quijada, his black eyes sparkling with a fiery light--"then in his agitation he scarcely knows what he is doing as I hold the stirrup for him.

But when, once in his saddle, his divine companion descends to him, he dashes upon the foe like a whirlwind and, wherever he strikes, how the chips fly! The strongest succumb to his blows.

'Victory! victory!' men shout exultingly wherever he goes.