“I have. You see, Don Miguel, you did not have me sent to school for nothing. This is what the Doña Isidora wrote to him.”
Diaz reached out eagerly, and, taking hold of the piece of paper, proceeded to devour its contents.
It was a copy of the note that had been sent among the sweetmeats.
Instead of further exciting, it seemed rather to tranquillise him.
“Carrambo!” he carelessly exclaimed, as he folded up the epistle. “There’s not much in this, good José. It only proves that your mistress is grateful to one who has done her a service. If that’s all—”
“But it is not all, Señor Don Miguel; and that’s why I’ve come to see you now. I’m on an errand to the pueblita. This will explain it.”
“Ha! Another letter?”
“Si, Señor! This time the original itself, and not a poor copy scribbled by me.”
With a shaking hand Diaz took hold of the paper, spread it out, and read:—
Al Señor Don Mauricio Gerald.