"For that I count on your help."
"Hum! that is a delicate affair. I have no cause of complaint against Don Miguel—on the contrary: besides, I do not see how I can serve you."
"Oh! very easily."
"You believe so?"
"You shall see."
"Go on, then; I am listening."
"Don Miguel has a daughter?"
"Doña Clara."
"I mean to carry her off."
"Deuce take the mad ideas that pass through your brain-pan, gossip! How would you have me help you in carrying off the daughter of Don Miguel, to whom I owe so many obligations? No, I cannot do that, indeed."