“Believe that this man is a taureador!” repeated the artist, with a smile so disdainful that the commercial traveller, wounded by the reply, rose and said:
“We will know very soon who he is; come with me, we will get information of him from his servant.”
The two friends mounted to the deck, where they were not long in meeting the man they searched for.
The commercial traveller, who volunteered to converse with the Spanish servant, led the conversation, and, after some trivial remarks, asked: “Your master,” he said to him, “has he retired to his chamber?”
“Yes, sir,” replied the servant, casting on the questioner a look full of penetration and malice.
“Is he rich?”
“I am not his intendant, I am only his valet-de-chambre.”
“Is he travelling on business?”
“I do not believe he has any.”
“Is he travelling for his health?”