And shutting the drawer angrily he left the chamber, followed by Marta. As they were passing by one of the windows of the boudoir, the girl uttered a cry of surprise and joy,—
"Look, look! Ricardo! Look! there's Menino!"
The young man hurried to the window, and saw, on the roof of the house, not very far away, Menino himself, hopping about with delight, and full of pride and stateliness.
"What a rascal! And so that's where he's gone! We must catch him. Where do you get out on the roof?"
"Not here; we must go down to the house first, and climb up through the skylight."
"Come on, then!"
They left the tower, and after crossing several rooms, they mounted the garret stairs leading from one of them. It was extremely dark, and the young man met with much difficulty. On the second step he received a tremendous knock.
"Oh, of course you aren't used to it. You'll hurt yourself; give me your hand and I'll guide you."
He took the girl's hand, which was small but firm and solid like an Amazon's; it was not so satiny as Maria's, for her work about the house had hardened it somewhat; in compensation it had the lovely smoothness which testifies to health and good blood. It was not feverish either like Maria's, but was always cool and moist and ready for any emergency, like those of a daughter of the people.
The young marquis did not think of making these observations, for he was going along, intent only on not falling. They reached the garret,—feebly lighted here and there by a few very tenuous rays of sunlight which filtered through the cracks in the tiles. After they had gone quite a distance, Marta dropped his hand, saying,—