Several of the party exchanged glances of dismay as they alighted from
their cars in the great cobbled courtyard or patio, to find themselves
stared at by a motley crew of men, women and children, and to see pigs,
dogs, asses and fowls wandering about.
"Looks as if we'll have to rough it!" whispered Tony to Myra. "I
didn't expect this sort of thing--what?"
Myra made a moue, but did not answer. She was wondering if Don
Carlos's invitation had been by way of an elaborate practical joke,
wondering if he intended to subject her to intense discomfort under the
guise of hospitality, or if he had some surprise in store.
The first surprise came when she followed Don Carlos into the great
hall of the castle to find a retinue of servants in livery, headed by a
gorgeously-attired major-domo carrying a silver wand of office, waiting
to greet their master and his guests. The hall itself was panelled
with polished Spanish mahogany, black with age, and softly illuminated
by cunningly-concealed electric lights around the painted roof. There
were beautiful Persian and Moorish rugs on the floor, and here and
there along the walls there hung paintings by Old Masters between
stands of ancient armour.
"Magnificent!" cried Myra in her impulsive way, after a gasp of
amazement. "Magnificent! This is the sort of hall one can imagine
Velasquez delighting to paint, the fit setting and background for a
Spanish Grandee in all his glory."
"I thank you, señorita," said Don Carlos, with a low bow. "El Castillo
de Ruiz is but a poor background for the most beautiful of women, but
you honour it by your presence, and all it contains is yours and at
your service. I give you welcome!"
He gave quick orders to the major-domo, who in turn issued orders to
the small army of servants--men in livery and comely maids in neat
black dresses with perky caps and wisps of aprons--to escort the guests
to their various apartments.
The magnificence of the hall might have prepared Myra for something
equally luxurious in other parts of the castle, yet she gasped again in
astonishment when she found herself ushered into a bedroom beautifully
decorated in dove grey and rose pink, a room in which everything
harmonised delightfully. The small casement window, set in a wall
three or four feet thick, admitted little light, but that fault was
remedied by the fact that the room, like the great hall below, was
softly lighted by electricity.
"The señorita would like a bath?" inquired the trim maid in English,
opening another door, to reveal a beautifully-appointed little bathroom.