We owed the wine-presser a debt of gratitude. His invigorating draught was doubly welcome after our late experience, and we went our way feeling there are many good Samaritans in the world.
We had some time to wait in the little town, and made closer acquaintance with its curious old streets: the overhanging eaves and waterspouts that stretched out like grinning gargoyles; the massive walls of many of the houses, and casements with rich mouldings that suggested a bygone day of wealth and prosperity.
In our wandering we came upon the man Loretta had pointed out as her future husband. He was almost in the very same spot we had last seen him, and his head was now adorned with a white cap. We stopped him.
"So, Lorenzo, you are going to espouse Loretta."
"With your permission, señor. I hope you are not going to forbid the marriage?"
"Quite the contrary. We offer you our congratulations, and think you a very lucky man, Loretta a fortunate woman."
"Thank you, señor," replied Lorenzo, laughing—he seemed made up of good-humour. "I think it promises well. You see we are neither of us children, but old enough to know our own mind. Loretta is twenty-eight, I am thirty-two, and as far as I can make out, we have neither of us cared for anybody before. Our marriage was evidently made in heaven. And then Mr. Caro settled the matter by accepting me as his master."
"And you love the donkeys, we hear?"
"I love all animals in general," returned Lorenzo, "and of course Loretta's donkeys in particular. If she could have an additional attraction in my eyes, it is her power over the dumb birds and beasts, which proves the goodness of her soul. I cannot approach her in that respect."