On the journey he had met plenty of mules with gay plumes and tassels,
oddly-dressed peasants and citizens. Gentlemen in brilliant court
uniforms, princes and princesses he saw daily in the court-yards, on the
stairs, and in the park of the palace.

At Toulouse and in other cities, through which he had passed, life
had been far more busy, active, and gay than in quiet Madrid, where
everything went on as if people were on their way to church, where a
cheerful face was rarely seen, and men and women knew of no sight more
beautiful and attractive, than seeing poor Jews and heretics burned.

Ulrich did not need the city; the Alcazar was a world in itself, and
offered him everything he desired.

He liked to linger in the stables, for there he could distinguish
himself; but it was also delightful to work, for Moor chose models and
designs that pleased the lad, and Sophonisba Anguisciola, who often
painted for hours in the studio by the master's side, came to Ulrich in
the intervals, looked at what he had finished, helped, praised, or
scolded him, and never left him without a jest on her lips.

True, he was often left to himself; for the king sometimes summoned the
artist and then quitted the palace with him for several days, to visit
secluded country houses, and there--the old Hollander had told the lad--
painted under Moor's instructions.

On the whole, there were new, strange, and surprising things enough, to
keep the sensation of "Fortune," alive in Ulrich's heart. Only it was
vexatious that he found it so hard to make himself intelligible to