ant 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.
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