"Within a step or two of Doña Rosario's tent; yes. Now, the rest is your affair."
"I suppose it is. But what can I do? I have never been further in than the dining room, so to flatter it. If I stumble over anything and make a noise, there will be an alarm, and all will be spoilt."
"That's true. I am sorry not to have thought of your having other eyes than mine. Follow me still, therefore."
"Good again. But, half a minute, my boy—where am I to find you in case I should require you?"
"Right here, sir, where we are standing. Must I not keep a lookout for your retreat?"
"So you must. You are right every time. I hardly know what I am about in saying or doing. The mere thought of speaking with the young lady freely unhinges me so that I—I fluctuate like a door in the wind."
"Be a man, sir; remember that on what you arrange in this interview is risked, not only your life, of which I do not know the value, but those of the two young ladies, one of which is as precious to me, sir, as the other, I daresay, to you."
"You touch my very heart, boy!—The idea terrifies me! But still it gives me the pluck which was oozing out at my fingers' ends. I feel up to the mark again. Come what may, I shall behave like a man, I believe. On again."
"Come on, but, more than before, silently! Hush, hush!"
They penetrated the marquee, the thick curtain, made heavier by the rain, falling behind them with a dull sound so sinister as to make them shudder. So does a pall flap on the bier in a sepulchral vault.