As she said this, we heard within the house a distant sound of talking, in which the harsh tones of Candiola were mingled with the voice of Guedita. We three, obeying one impulse, drew into the shadow and held our breaths, fearing to be surprised. Then we heard the voice of the miser coming nearer, and saying,—
"What are you doing up at this hour, Señora Guedita?"
"Señor," answered the old woman, showing herself at a window which opened upon the balcony, "who can sleep during this dreadful bombardment? Perhaps a bomb may come and meddle with us here. What if the house should take fire, and the neighbors should come to drag out the furniture and put out the fire, and find us in our night-clothes? Oh, what a lack of modesty! I do not intend to undress myself while this devilish bombardment lasts."
"Is my daughter asleep?" asked Candiola, appearing at another garden window.
"She is upstairs sleeping like a kitten," replied the duenna. "They speak truly when they say that there are no dangers for innocence. A bomb does not frighten the child any more than a sky-rocket."
"I wonder if I can see from here where the projectile has fallen," said Candiola, stretching his body out of the window, in order to be able to extend his range of vision. "I can see the light of a fire, but I cannot say whether it is near or far."
"Oh, I don't know anything about bombs," said Guedita, who had come out on the balcony. "This one has fallen over there by the market."
"So it seems. If only all would fall upon the houses of those who persist in keeping up the defence and causing the destruction! If I am not deceived, Señora Guedita, the fire is near the Calle de la Triperia. Are not the storehouses of the junta of supplies over there? Oh, blessed bomb, why not fall into the Calle de la Hilarza, upon the house of that cursed, most miserable thief! Señora Guedita, I am going to the Calle de la Hilarza, to see if it has fallen on the house of that proud, meddlesome, cowardly thief, Don José de Montoria. I have prayed for it to-night to the Virgin del Pilar with so much fervor, and also at the Santas Masas and at Santo Dominguito del Val, that at last I believe I have been heard."
"Señor Don Jeronimo," said the old woman, "do not go out! The cold of the night is bad for you, and it is not worth risking your lungs to see where the bomb has fallen. It is enough that it has not meddled with this house. If that one which passed did not fall into the house of that barbarian of an official, another will fall to-morrow. The French have a good handful. Now, your honor, go to rest. I will stay up and look after the house."