sympathy.

We went our way, richer for having known her. It was our last look upon
these cathedral precincts. The afternoon shadows were lengthening as we
went back through the quiet streets to the hotel. All the brilliant
glory of the day had departed. These repeated farewells were depressing,
yet not quite over, for as we approached the Fonda who should be
standing at their own door but Ernesto and his mother. We had not met
them since the previous day when they had disappeared within the lion's
den, and we had gone round to the reeds and the river.

"Ernesto! how is this? Why are you not at school?"

"School, senor!" opening very wide eyes. "Fair week is holiday. We
should have a revolution if they attempted school upon us. For this one
week in the year we change places with our fathers and mothers, pastors
and teachers. They obey and we command."

"We congratulate you on this topsy-turvy state of things. But as you are
strong be merciful. Remember that Black Monday comes. Cinderella went
back to her rags at midnight; you must go back to school and good work.
And the monkeys? You are still at large; we feared the opposite, as you
had not brought us your report."

"Oh! I brought it, senor; but it was rather late, and Senor Lasoli said
you were at the opera. You should have seen the monkeys!" And here he
went off into convulsions at the recollection of the performance. "They
couldn't understand what was inside the lozenges to bite their tongues
so! First they would take a nibble, then rub the lozenge on the arm;
then another nibble; then a whole torrent of monkey-swearing and
lozenge-rubbing because it kept on biting and burning. I quite thought I
should die with laughing."

From the way he laughed now, it seemed doubtful whether all danger was
over.

"But that is not the worst, senor," said the mother, at length making
herself heard. "Will you believe that the boy has a wretched catapult in
his pocket, and there will be any number of broken windows and
assassinated cats in the town. I don't know what will become of us. If
there is one thing I dread more than another, it is a catapult. They are
the implements of the devil."

"There is absolutely no fear," laughed Ernesto. "I never broke a window
in my life--at least, hardly ever. As for cats, they are quite outside
the law of murder. A dead cat is as rare as a dead donkey. Are you
really going to-day, senor? Then I shall have no more pleasure in the
fair, tho