The onza amid the verdigris-covered pennies was a type of the lady amid the crowd.
"She paid an onza for her seat," cried Ursus, with enthusiasm.
Just then the hotel-keeper entered the Green Box, and passing his arm out of the window at the back of it, opened the loop-hole in the wall of which we have already spoken, which gave a view over the field, and which was level with the window, then he made a silent sign to Ursus to look out. A carriage, swarming with plumed footmen carrying torches and magnificently appointed, was driving off at a fast trot.
Ursus took the piece of gold between his forefinger and thumb respectfully, and showing it to Master Nicless, said, "She is a goddess." Then, his eyes falling on the carriage which was about to turn the corner of the field, and on the imperial where the footmen's torches lighted up a golden coronet, with eight strawberry leaves, he exclaimed, "She is more,—she is a duchess!"
The carriage disappeared. The rumbling of its wheels died away in the distance. Ursus remained some moments lost in ecstasy, holding the gold piece between his finger and thumb, elevating it as the priest elevates the host. Then he placed it on the table, and, as he contemplated it, began to talk of "Madam."
"She was a duchess," the inn-keeper assured him. Yes. They knew her title. But her name? Of that they were ignorant. Master Nicless had been close to the carriage, and had seen the coat-of-arms, and the footmen covered with lace. The coachman had on a wig which might have belonged to a Lord Chancellor. The carriage was of that rare design called in Spain coche-tumbon, a splendid build, with a rounding top, which makes a magnificent support for a coronet. The page
