"I have written a letter to each of them. Mendoza did not reply; the Señor Conde, after the lapse of considerable time, tells me in a letter, which I have with me, and you can see, 'that the very serious political duties that weigh upon him do not permit him at present to attend to such things as these, which have for some time been intrusted to his former private secretary, Señor Mendoza y Pimentel.' Of course, as you very well know, I have no need of begging from door to door for what is my own. And so, without further delay, I have come directly to you."
"Why did you not go to Mendoza first?"
Eguiburu hung his head, and began to twirl his hat; at the same time he smiled much as a marble statue might have done if it had the power.
"Señor de Mendoza seems to me to have very little flesh for my claws!"
On hearing these words, and seeing the smile that accompanied them, Miguel felt a chill run down his back, and he made no reply. At the end of a few moments he looked up, and said in a firm voice:—
"In other words, you have come to dun me for those thirty thousand duros! Is that so?"
"I feel it in my soul, Señor de Rivera ... be convinced that I really do ... for it is certainly not to be gainsaid that you have not eaten them."
"Thanks! you have a sensitive spirit, and I congratulate you on it. Unfortunately I cannot reciprocate this delicacy of feelings by handing over the thirty thousand duros."
"Very well; but you will hand them over!"
"Have you any security for it?"