“Now,” said Captain Ramirez, as the ceremony ended, and the numerous spectators issued from the church, “if ever man were fairly ruined, I am he. Friend Sanchez, how gladly would I tell thee out three hundred dollars!”
“Indeed!” said the civilian; “I’m happy to assure you, that that pleasure is reserved for to-morrow.”
“‘Would I dare think it so,” said the captain, with a sigh; “but how is it to be done? Are we to pick locks, scale walls, commit-murder, or—”
“Heaven forbid!” returned Signor Sanchez; “we will effect it by no felonious means, or I shall agree to forego the benefit of the wager. Rest assured, that the entry into the admiral’s domicile shall be peacefully achieved. Come, supper will be waiting; we will finish afterwards a flask or two to the health of the peerless Camilla; and, it by the hour of siesta to-morrow, I have not lightened your purse by three hundred pieces, why, worthy captain, then write Juan Sanchez down a very ass.”
Morning came. The gay stranger was early a-foot; for, were the truth told, the sweet religieuse had spoiled the captain’s sleep. Presently his host joined him. The morning meal was discussed; and the stranger reminded Signor Sanchez that he had net forgotten the wager made on the preceding evening.
“I should be sorry if you had, noble captain, for it would be to me the loss of a sum in sterling silver, that we traders do not every day realize so easily.”
“Well, my friend, when is the trial to come off?” was the inquiry.
“The bet shall be speedily decided; and, in one hour hence, the pocket of one of us will be lighter than it is at present: I could give a shrewd guess, Captain Ramirez, which of them it will be.”
Half the time wore away, when the essay was to be made; and the stranger became momentarily more impatient.
“I fancy you may prepare,” said the civilian, “for your interview with Camilla.”