the exterior of the building. These chambers were now taken by the
merchant and his wife who gave up their own rooms to the officer who
was billeted upon them,--probably because they wished to avoid all
quarrelling.

Montefiore gave himself out as a former Spanish subject, persecuted by
Napoleon, whom he was serving against his will; and these semi-lies
had the success he expected. He was invited to share the meals of the
family, and was treated with the respect due to his name, his birth,
and his title. He had his reasons for capturing the good-will of the
merchant and his wife; he scented his madonna as the ogre scented the
youthful flesh of Tom Thumb and his brothers. But in spite of the
confidence he managed to inspire in the worthy pair the latter
maintained the most profound silence as to the said madonna; and not
only did the captain see no trace of the young girl during the first
day he spent under the roof of the honest Spaniard, but he heard no
sound and came upon no indication which revealed her presence in that
ancient building. Supposing that she was the only daughter of the old
couple, Montefiore concluded they had consigned her to the garret,
where, for the time being, they made their home.

But no revelation came to betray the hiding-place of that precious
treasure. The marquis glued his face to the lozenge-shaped leaded
panes which looked upon the black-walled enclosure of the inner
courtyard; but in vain; he saw no gleam of light except from the
windows of the old couple, whom he could see and hear as they went and
came and talked and coughed. Of the young girl, not a shadow!

Montefiore was far too wary to risk the future of his passion by
exploring the house nocturnally, or by tapping softly on the doors.