"'Who are you, my brother?' she asked, in a peevish, sleepy voice. 'Why do you come at this late hour to tap at the gates of the convent?'"
"'Ave Maria purísima!' Salado said, in his most nasal tone."
"'Sin pecado concebida, my brother,—are you ill?'"
"'I am a poor sinner, you know, sister; my soul is plunged in affliction.'"
"'Who are you, brother? I really believe that I can recognise your voice; but the night is so dark, that I am unable to distinguish your features.'"
"'And I sincerely trust you will not see them,' Salado said, mentally; then added, in a louder voice, 'I am Señor Templado, and keep a locanda in the Calle Plateros.'"
"'Ah! I remember you now, brother.'"
"'I fancy that is biting,' the pulquero muttered."
"'What do you desire, brother? Make haste to tell me, in the most holy name of your Saviour!' she said, crossing herself devotedly, a movement imitated by Salado; 'for the air is very cold, and I must continue my orisons, which you have interrupted.'"
"'Vulgo mi Dios! sister; my wife and two children are ill; the Reverend Pater Guardian, of the Franciscans, urged me to come and ask you for three bottles of your miraculous water.'"