saw her with him then?"

"My brother," replied one of the captains. "She was just coming out of
the tent, as he passed with the guard."

"Don't take the matter to heart," said the other. "There are plenty of
women! We are growing old, and can no longer cope with a handsome fellow
like Navarrete."

"I thought the sibyl was more sensible," added the younger captain.
"I saw her in Naples sixteen years ago. Zounds, she was a beautiful
woman then! A pretty creature even now; but Navarrete might almost be
her son. And you always treated her kindly, Pasquale. Well, whoever
expects gratitude from women...."

Suddenly the quartermaster remembered the hour just before the election,
when Florette had thrown herself upon his breast, and thanked him for his
kindness; clenching his teeth, he groaned aloud.

The others were about to leave him, but he regained his self-control, and
said:

"Take him the count's letter, Renato. What I have to say to him, I will
determine later."

Zorrillo was a long time unlacing his jerkin and taking out the paper.
Both of his companions noticed how his fingers trembled, and looked at
each other compassionately; but the older one said, as he received the
letter: