hearted carelessness of military life; though it must be said that
never were hour, scene, or night more propitious for meditation.  The
beautiful sky of Spain spread its dome of azure above his head.  The
scintillation of the stars and the soft light of the moon illumined
the delightful valley that lay at his feet.  Resting partly against an
orange-tree in bloom, the young major could see, three hundred feet
below him, the town of Menda, at the base of the rock on which the
castle is built.  Turning his head, he looked down upon the sea, the
sparkling waters of which encircled the landscape with a sheet of
silver. 

The chateau was illuminated.  The joyous uproar of a ball, the sounds
of an orchestra, the laughter of the dancers came to him, mingling
with the distant murmur of the waves.  The coolness of the night gave
fresh energy to his body, that was tired with the heat of the day.
Besides which, the gardens were planted with trees so balmy and
flowers so sweet, that the young man felt as if plunged in a perfumed
bath. 

The chateau de Menda belonged to a grandee of Spain, who was at this