Not noticing this, and without waiting a rejoinder, the other ran on, still interrogating:
“Whom have you trusted with this delicate mission, may I ask?”
“Only José?”
“Well; José, from what I’ve seen of him, is worthy of the trust. That is so far as honesty is concerned, and possibly cleverness. But, amiga mia, he’s only a humble servitor, and out there in Tacubaya, among the garrison soldiers, or if it be in any of the prisons, he may experience a little difficulty in obtaining the information you seek. Did you give him any money to make matters easy?”
“He has my purse with him, with permission to use it as he may see best.”
“Ah! then you may safely expect his bringing back a good account, or at all events one that will settle the question you wish to have settled. Your purse should be a key to Don Florencio’s prison—if he be inside one anywhere in Mexico.”
“Oh! I hope he is.”
“Wishing your amanti in a prison! That would sound strange enough, if one didn’t understand it.”
“I’d give anything to know him there—all I have to be assured he still lives.”
“Likely enough you’ll soon hear. When do you expect your messenger to be back?”