“Eusebio Villa-Señor. Al servicio de V.”
I started as if a shot had struck me. Oh! the memories that rolled up at the mention of that name!
I was carried back to the City of the Angels—to the Calle del Obispo—to the sorrow from which I had vainly imagined myself to have escaped!
Again was it upon me, full and fell as ever.
With an effort I succeeded in controlling my emotions, or at least the exhibition of them.
Absorbed in his own grief, Don Eusebio did not suspect the existence of mine; and the general was still engrossed with his strategical combinations.
I was now too deeply interested in the suit of the petitioner, to lose a moment’s time in placing it before him petitioned.
I endorsed it with all the eloquence I could command: since it was almost identical with my own—already preferred.
Our joint prayer was heard, and granted upon the spot.