"Ah bah! Allons! you are still in our debt. You did us a good service to-day, in truth; but remember, we found your lady-love for you yesterday. Ohé! her eyes, her cheeks, parbleu! I envy you the lovely—how does she call herself—la belle Juanita? Tol-lol-di-rol! Chantez, mon ami."
"We Spaniards are not accustomed to discuss such matters in mixed company," said Miguel, still more irritably.
"We Spaniards! Par exemple! I'm not a Spaniard; nor are you, my friend, to judge by your reception in the Spaniards' houses to-day."
His tone was decidedly nettled, and the young lieutenant looked uncomfortable, and seemed about to hazard a remark. The captain was solemnly drinking.
"Eh bien!" said the commissary, changing his tone. "There's no need for us to quarrel. The lovely Juanita is to be your bride; that is settled. We'll see what we can do with King Joseph to hasten matters. And so, without more words, let us drink a health to her!"
"Perez, another bottle," said Miguel.
The one-eyed servant came across the room, and Jack slipped out of sight between two leaves of the screen. The commissary sang on:—
"J'ai mis mon coeur dedans,
Dedans mon bouquet blanc.
Comm' nous pardons, v'là qu'elle crie:
'Oh! reviens t'en.'
Voila qu'il en revient!" (as Perez re-entered).
"You can go and get your own supper," said Miguel when the cork was drawn.