"Ah! the cunning beldame," quoth Don Lope sarcastically. "She has all the arts of her kind, I perceive; but I hope, Señor Don Manuel, that you are not to be imposed upon by such shallow artifices. We must secure the duenna, and examine her well; perchance a few threats will not be altogether unavailing."
"That is precisely the method I have adopted," said Don Manuel.
"And where is the old hag, now?" inquired Don Lope.
"Packing up her trumpery, to depart for the convent."
"Pedro"—then called Don Manuel.
"Your pleasure?" demanded the valet, as he entered.
"Send Martha to me."
Pedro obeyed, but shortly after returned with a most dismal and elongated visage.
"Well, what is the old dotard staring at?" impatiently cried his master.
"Señor, Martha is flown," replied the dependant.