“Girls! what girls?” inquired the major, who had not yet learned the exact nature of our aquatic adventure.
Here the voice of Don Cosmé was heard calling out—
“Pepe! Ramon! Francisco! bring dinner. Anda! anda!” (Be quick!)
“Who on earth is the old fellow calling?” asked the major, with some concern in his manner. “I see no one.”
Nor could we; so we all rose up together, and approached that side of the building that looked rearward.
The house, to all appearance, had but one apartment—the room in which we then were. The only point of this screened from observation was the little veranda into which Don Cosmé had entered; but this was not large enough to contain the number of persons who might be represented by the names he had called out.
Two smaller buildings stood under the olive-trees in the rear; but these, like the house, were transparent, and not a human figure appeared within them. We could see through the trunks of the olives a clear distance of a hundred yards. Beyond this, the mezquite and the scarlet leaves of the wild maguey marked the boundary of the forest.
It was equally puzzling to us whither the girls had gone, or whence “Pepe, Ramon, and Francisco” were to come.
The tinkling of a little bell startled us from our conjectures, and the voice of Don Cosmé was heard inquiring:
“Have you any favourite dish, gentlemen?”