“Nonsense!” answered Juan. “I can discern the outline of her figure; no other form can possess such grace.”
I thought that Juan’s imagination assisted him in this respect, as I could only just distinguish that a female was seated on the balcony. As we drew near, however, I began to suspect that it was Dona Dolores herself, but her head at the time was turned away, as if addressing some one.
Stepping softly, so that we might not be discovered until we at once burst into song, we approached the house. Juan led the way; I kept close under the wall, having no guitar; while Mr Laffan stood at a little distance. Juan gave the signal, and we commenced the song. It was in praise of a lady resembling Dona Dolores in all particulars, and the love and devotion of one whose affection she had won, but appeared to regard with disdain.
Dona Dolores—for it was she—leaned her head on her hand as she listened to the music, which was such as to attract any female ear. I will not speak of my own powers; but Juan’s voice was full and rich—indeed, he was one of the best singers I ever heard; and Mr Laffan did his part on the guitar.
We had continued for some time, when Dona Dolores leaned forward and said, “I will not pretend to be ignorant as to who you are. You desire to speak with me; and I am willing to see you. You are welcome to come in, with your young friend, whose voice I recognise.”
Don Juan poured out his thanks, and expressed his readiness to take advantage of the permission given him.
Dona Dolores had said nothing of Mr Laffan; perhaps she had not perceived him, or in the dark had mistaken him for me, as I had been concealed under the wall—although our figures were very different. At all events, it was very evident that he would be one too many. Of this he was perfectly well aware himself, and as we went round to the front entrance he whispered,—“I’ll go back and tell Don Ricardo that you have the honour of an interview, and will soon return;” and without another word he hastened along the road.
We made our way to the front gate, which was opened as we arrived by Señora Ortes, who had been directed by her mistress to let us in.
“Dona Dolores awaits you in her sitting-room,” she said; “you are welcome.”