“But how is that?” queried the consul in surprise.
“It’s the red cap,” volunteered Pilarica. “It doesn’t exactly turn real stones into real bread, but it makes trouble pleasant, and that’s the same thing, only better.”
The Englishman did not look much enlightened.
VI
HEROES AND DONKEYS
ON the morrow Don Carlos was promptly called upon to redeem his forfeit. Rafael was so much better that he had been lifted over to his father’s hammock, where, propped against pillows, he sat almost upright, taking, for the first time since his illness began, his usual breakfast of chocolate and bread. Pilarica, in celebration of this happy event, had waited to breakfast with him, and the two children were having great fun, throwing back their heads in unison as they dipped the long strips of bread into their bowls of cinnamon-flavored chocolate, so thick that it clung to the bread in a sticky lump. They were very dexterous in whirling up the bread-sticks and directing the sluggish brown trickle into their mouths without spilling a drop, afterwards biting off the chocolate-laden end of the bread and hungrily dipping again.
“And now for the heroes!” called Rafael.
“You didn’t say please,” rebuked Pilarica.
“Heroes, please,” amended the boy, “but girls ought not to correct their brothers.”
“Do me the favor to excuse me,” apologized Pilarica.
“There is no occasion for it,” returned Rafael with his best Andalusian manner.