"Well, we both are; but calm yourself," he said, kissing her.
In a few moments both were sound asleep again.
IV.
Unusual silence reigned in the editorial rooms. Nothing was heard except the scratching of steel pens on paper. The editors were seated around a great table covered with oil-cloth; two or three, however, were writing at small pine tables, set in the corners of the room.
By and by one who had a beard just beginning to turn gray, raised his head, and said:—
"Tell me, Señor de Rivera, was not the motion determined upon for the eighteenth?"
Miguel, who was writing at one of the special tables, replied without lifting his head:—
"Señor Marroquín, I can't advise you too often to be more discreet. Try to realize that all our heads are in danger, from the humblest, like Señor Merelo y García's, up to the most stately and glorious, like our very worthy chief's."
The editors smiled. One of them inquired:—
"And what has become of Merelo? He has not been here at all yet."