The young man showed signs of impatience, listening attentively to the slightest distant noises. Tired of pacing to and fro, he sat upon the couch and thoughtfully contemplated the rafters in the ceiling.
A half hour had elapsed since El Mojoso’s departure, when there came a shy knock at the door. The youth was so preoccupied that he heard nothing until the third or fourth knock, and a voice saying:
“May I come in?”
“Come!”
The door opened and a girl entered—the landlord’s second daughter—with a dish in one hand, and an Andújar jar in the other.
The youth was astounded at seeing such a pretty maid, and completely upset by the sight.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Your supper.”
“Ah! You are the landlord’s daughter?”
“Sí, Señor,” she replied with a smile.