“And the lady, who is she?” asked the curate.

“That I cannot tell you either,” said the servant, “for I have not seen her face all the way: I have indeed heard her sigh many times and utter such groans that she seems to be giving up the ghost every time; but it is no wonder if we do not know more than we have told you, as my comrade and I have only been in their company two days, for having met us on the road they begged and persuaded us to accompany them to Andalusia, promising to pay us well.”

“And have you heard any of them called by his name?” asked the curate.

“No, indeed,” replied the servant; “they all preserve a marvellous silence on the road, for not a sound is to be heard among them except the poor lady’s sighs and sobs, which make us pity her; and we feel sure that wherever it is she is going, it is against her will, and as far as one can judge from her dress she is a nun or, what is more likely, about to become one; and perhaps it is because taking the vows is not of her own free will, that she is so unhappy as she seems to be.”