"But, Julio, were I to give them to you, you would gamble with them at once."
"No, you are wrong this time; I would pay for some things our master ordered me to buy yesterday."
Bernardo drew a small purse from his doublet, and handed to his companion its scanty contents.
"Here is all I possess," he said. "I fear they will go like the others."
Julio thrust the shillings into his pocket, and muttered:
"I do not deny that I may go this evening to the parish of Saint Andrew, to see if any one would dare play against me."
"Julio, Julio, I pity you!" said Bernardo, sadly. "I do not wish to lecture you; but you have an unfortunate and aged mother who requires your aid. You are always talking of sending her assistance, and for six months past every farthing has been lost at play. Perhaps in the meantime your mother has suffered for want of food."
This reproach seemed to affect Julio deeply. He looked down abashed, and then said, dejectedly: "Bernardo, never speak to me again of my mother. You touch the only sensitive spot in my heart. And yet you are right; I am a monster! Oh! this miserable play! I will do better in future. Go away now, and let me continue my work."
"What are you making?" asked Bernardo. "This is the third spring you have ordered, and each time from a different locksmith."
"It is a secret known only to my master and myself."