survive in the universities of Fez, Rafael felt the sorrow he would have
experienced had it all been a disaster to his family or his party.

While he was thinking of all these dead things, life in its feverish
agitation surrounded him. A cloud of sparrows was darting about the roof
of the Hermitage. On the mountain side a flock of dark-fleeced sheep was
grazing; and when any of them discovered a blade of grass among the
rocks, they would begin calling to one another with a melancholy
bleating.

Rafael could hear the voices of some women who seemed to be climbing the
road, and from his reclining position he finally made out two parasols
that were gradually rising to view over the edge of his bench. One was
of flaming red silk, skilfully embroidered and suggesting the filigreed
dome of a mosque; the second, of flowered calico, was apparently keeping
at a respectful distance behind the first.

Two women entered the little square, and as Rafael sat up and removed
his hat, the taller, who seemed to be the mistress, acknowledged his
courtesy with a slight bow, went on to the other end of the esplanade,
and stood, with her back turned toward him, looking at the view. The
other sat down some distance off, breathing laboriously from the
exertion of the climb.

Who were those women?... Rafael knew the whole city, and had never seen
them.

The one seated near him was doubtless the servant of the other--her maid
or her companion. She was dressed in black, simply but with a certain
charm, like the French soubrettes he had seen in illustrated novels. But