intended to be peaceful and sunny, and perhaps trifling, but which
the wickedness of men had rendered otherwise, 'my house is, as you
would divine, only an official residence, but pleasant enough--
pleasant enough. The garden is distinctly tolerable; there are
orange trees now in bloom--so sweet of scent.'

The street into which they had now emerged was no less martial in
appearance than the barrack yard, and while he spoke the General
never ceased to dispense his kindly little nod on one side or the
other in response to military salutations.

'We have quite a number of soldiers in Ronda at present,' he said,
with an affectionate little pressure of Conyngham's arm, as if to
indicate his appreciation of such protection amid these rough men.
'There is a great talk of some rising in the South--in Andalusia--to
support Senor Cabrera, who continually threatens Madrid. A great
soldier, they tell me, this Cabrera, but not--well, not perhaps
quite, eh?--a caballero, a gentleman. A pity, is it not?'

'A great pity,' answered Conyngham, taking the opportunity at last
afforded him of getting a word in.

'One must be prepared,' went on the General with a good-natured
little sigh, 'for such measures. There are so many mistaken
enthusiasts--is it not so? Such men as your countryman, Senor
Flinter. There are so many who are stronger Carlists than Don
Carlos himself, eh?'

The secret of conversational success is to defer to one's listener.
A clever man imparts information by asking questions, and obtains it