"What a story!" exclaimed Aunt Maria, "it is a lie as big as a house. Go along with you, Pedro, for a boaster. I never had a lover in my life except my husband, 'may he rest in peace.'"
"O Mrs. Maria, Mrs. Maria!" said Pedro, "how very poor is your grace's memory! for you know the song--
"Though you take from him the sceptre,
Robes of state, and signet rings,
Still remains unto the monarch
This--that he was once a king."
"It is true," Maria answered, "that he made love to me one day at my cousin's wedding, and that he came one night to my window; but he got such a fright there that he left me planted, and ran away as if fear had lent wings to his feet; and I believe he never stopped until he ran his nose against the end of the world."
"How is that?" exclaimed the audience, laughing heartily; "is that the way you show your heels when you are frightened, Uncle Pedro?"
"I neither boast of my courage," replied the latter composedly, "nor do I wish to gain the palm from Francisco Esteban. "
"That is being more afraid than ashamed," said Aunt Maria, who was becoming impatient.
"You see, sirs," said Uncle Pedro, slyly winking, "that she has not yet forgiven me, which proves, does it not, that she was fond of me? But I should like to know," he proceeded, "which of you is the Cid Campeador that would like to have to do with beings of the other world; with supernatural things?"
"There was nothing more supernatural than your fears," interrupted Maria, "and they had no more cause than the rolling of a stone from the roof, by some cat that was keeping vigil."