"I do not see in what I can serve you, señor."
"But I do. Look here, my dear sir; we are playing with our cards under the table."
"I do not know why you speak thus, señor; my policy towards you should, I think, be sufficient to place me above suspicion of treachery," answered he.
"These ladies," Don Zeno continued, "whether rightly or wrongly, I will not discuss with you, imagine that they are surrounded by enemies determined on their destruction. Perhaps, if I presented myself to them, their mind, embittered by misfortunes, would see in me, whom they know but imperfectly, instead of a sure friend and a devoted servant, one of their enemies."
"Oh," cried the painter, haughtily, "what is that you are saying, señor? Are you not the aide-de-camp of General the Marquis de Castelmelhor?"
"That is true," answered the partisan, with embarrassment.
"Well, it seems to me, caballero, that that position ought to serve as a safeguard."
"Well, it probably would do so—at least I hope so. Unfortunately, reasons of the highest importance necessitate my trusting to someone else. That other—"
"Is to be me, is it not?" quickly interrupted the young man. "That is what you wanted to propose, caballero?"
"Whom could I choose if not you, señor?—you who know these ladies, and they have full confidence in you."