"Hum!" said Marcelino. "I do not wish to meet any of them until we meet sword in hand."
"No fear," said another; "the officers will be all on duty to-night."
"I will go at any rate," said Marcelino. "I may meet Carlos there, so good-night to you all until the day."
But Don Isidro would not let him depart thus coldly, he sprang to his feet, and grasping him warmly by the hand said:
"Before many days we will meet again; meantime, warn your friend that he keep within his own house and I guarantee you that no harm shall come to him."
Marcelino found no difficulty in reaching his father's house, his name was his passport. He walked boldly along the streets, met several patrols of British soldiery, was questioned by them, but was immediately permitted to pass on, as he gave his name, speaking in English, and told them where he was going. As he drew near he heard sounds of music; in the first patio he found several English soldiers muffled in their grey great-coats, unarmed, walking up and down and joking in a rough, good-humoured way with the mulatta girls and negresses, the servants of his father's household.
"What are you women doing here?" asked Marcelino sternly.
"The night is fine, and the Señora permits us to watch the dancing," answered one.
"It is Don Marcelino," whispered another. "What joy for the Señora; I will run and tell her."
"Stay where you are; I want to see who are here first." So saying Marcelino went up to one of the sala doors, and opening it softly looked in.