“Safe! Why what’s the man thinking—talking about? Have you lost your senses, hombre?”
“No, Pepita. But the ladies have lost something. Look here!”
He had plunged both his hands into his pockets, and drawn them out again full of things that scintillated in the moonlight—watches and jewellery of different kinds, as she saw. With a woman’s curiosity, gliding swiftly forward to examine them, she recognised every article at a glance, amazement overspreading her countenance, as it lately had his.
“Ay de mi!” she exclaimed, no longer in jesting tone. “What does it all mean, José?”
“Just what I want to know myself, and why I am asking after the Señoritas. But where are they?”
“In the garden, or the grounds somewhere. They strolled out about an hour ago, and haven’t been in since.”
“Pray God, they’re still alive! Come with me, Pepita. Let us look for them. I have terrible fears.”
So appealed to, the girl gave ready assent; and side by side they hastened towards the rear of the house, behind which were the ornamental grounds extending backwards. But they had not far to go before hearing sounds that set their minds at rest, removing all anxiety—the voices of the ladies themselves. They were not only alive, but laughing!
To José and Pepita this seemed strange as anything else—a perfect mystery. Merry after parting with all those pretty things; costly, too—worth hundreds of doblones! Withal, they were so; their lightness of heart due to the knowledge thus gained, that their own lovers were still living and safe; and something of merriment, added by that odd encounter with the enano, of which they were yet conversing.
If their behaviour mystified their servants, not less were they themselves puzzled when José presented himself before them with hands held out, saying: