“Il demonio!” groaned the women, as they, too, ducked their heads.
Then the fellow, who was drunk, just reeled off in search of some easier adventure.
Pedro had hardly finished boasting of his victory when the door was again assailed.
“Oh,” said Pollonia, “it’s only two officers’ servants;” and she shut the window.
“Well, what did they want?” asked the Captain.
“They wanted lodgings for their masters, but I told them we had no room.”
“And have you room, Donna Pollonia?”
“Yes; but I didn’t choose to say so.”
“Run, Pedro, run and tell those servants that there is plenty of room. Don’t you see, señora, that this is the best chance of preserving your house from pillage?”
They returned—one a Prussian lad who spoke French very ill. The Captain’s hope that these fellow-lodgers would prove gentlemen lent him a feeling of security.