CHAPTER XVII.
AT THE INN OF THE TWO TREES At dawn the next morning, Marcos and Sarrion rode out of the city towards Alagon by the great high road many inches deep in dust which has always been the main artery of the capital of Aragon.
The pace was leisurely; for the carriage they were going to meet had been timed to leave Alagon fifteen miles away at four o'clock.

There was but one road.

They could scarcely miss it.
It was seven o'clock when they halted at a roadside inn.

Sarrion quitted the saddle and went indoors to order coffee while Marcos sat on his tall black horse scanning the road in front of him.

The valley of the Ebro is flat here, with bare, brown hills rising on either side like a gigantic mud-fence.