The duke and Granvelle drove back to the city in the minister's carriage.

Malfalconnet and Quijada, in spite of the gathering storm, went home on foot.
"What a festival!" said Don Luis scornfully.
"In former days such things presented a more superb spectacle even here.
But now! No procession, no scarlet save on the cardinals, no golden cross, no venerable priest's head on the whole pleasure ground, and, moreover, neither consecration nor the pious exhortation to remember Heaven, whence comes the joy in which the crowd is rejoicing." "I, too, missed something here," cried the baron eagerly, "and now I learn through you what it is." "Will not the heretics themselves gradually feel that they are robbing the pasty of faith of its truffles--what am I saying ?--of its salt?
May their dry black bread choke them! The only thing that gave the unseasoned meal a certain charm was the capitally performed gagliarde.
"Which angered his Majesty more deeply than you imagine," replied Don Luis.

"The singer's days are probably numbered.

It is a pity! She was wonderfully successful in subduing the spirits of melancholy." "The war, on which we can now depend, will do that equally well, if not better," interrupted the baron.

"Within a short time I, too, have lost all admiration for this fair one.