Discovery by that hot patriot, the mercer, suspicious as a Spaniard
must be, meant ruin infallibly. The captain therefore resolved to wait
patiently, resting his faith on time and the imperfection of men,
which always results--even with scoundrels, and how much more with
honest men!--in the neglect of precautions.

The next day he discovered a hammock in the kitchen, showing plainly
where the servant-woman slept. As for the apprentice, his bed was
evidently made on the shop counter. During supper on the second day
Montefiore succeeded, by cursing Napoleon, in smoothing the anxious
forehead of the merchant, a grave, black-visaged Spaniard, much like
the faces formerly carved on the handles of Moorish lutes; even the
wife let a gay smile of hatred appear in the folds of her elderly
face. The lamp and the reflections of the brazier illumined
fantastically the shadows of the noble room. The mistress of the house
offered a "cigarrito" to their semi-compatriot. At this moment the
rustle of a dress and the fall of a chair behind the tapestry were
plainly heard.

"Ah!" cried the wife, turning pale, "may the saints assist us! God
grant no harm has happened!"

"You have some one in the next room, have you not?" said Montefiore,
giving no sign of emotion.

The draper dropped a word of imprecation against the girls. Evidently
alarmed, the wife opened a secret door, and led in, half fainting, the
Italian's madonna, to whom he was careful to pay no attention; only,
to avoid a too-studied indifference, he glanced at the girl before he
turned to his host and said in his own language:--