When they brought it to him, he said, as he put it on:—
"Thank you much. Please not lock up until I come; I shall not be long."
"Don't trouble yourself, señorito; we will wait for you."
As soon as he was in the street, he knew not whither to direct his steps; his heart beat violently; he was so anxious that his clearness of mind entirely deserted him.
After hesitating a few moments, he started to go along the Plaza del Angel without any reason for it; but there was just as little for choosing any other direction.
He quickened his steps as soon as he could, without seeing any one beside the watchman on the corner.
He entered the Calle de Carretas, and saw only a group of young men going along discussing literature.
When he reached the Puerta del Sol,[37] he made out in the distance, near San Jeronimo Avenue, a woman's form; he felt a strong emotion, and without thinking that he might be taken for an evil-doer, he started to run after her. She was a desgraciada, who, as she turned around to see who was following her in that way, met the young man's astonished and startled eyes.
"See here, señorito!" she cried in a coarse voice.
But Miguel had already dashed by her down the Calle del Principe. And suddenly he found himself again in the Plaza de Santa Ana. Then he stood still, and clutching his temples with his hands, exclaimed aloud, in a voice of anguish:—