ok one hopeless look at the balcony, saw it as
empty and as black as ever, then he faced his antagonist, waiting.

"Bandage one eye, indeed!" muttered Morano as he stepped up behind the
stranger and knocked him down for the third time with a blow over the
head from his frying-pan.

The young hidalgo dropped silently.

Rodriguez uttered one scream of anger and rushed at Morano with his
sword. Morano had already started to run; and, knowing well that he was
running for his life, he kept for awhile the start that he had of the
rapier. Rodriguez knew that no plump man of over forty could last
against his lithe speed long. He saw Morano clearly before him, then
lost sight of him for a moment and ran confidently on pursuing. He ran
on and on. And at last he recognised that Morano had slipped into the
darkness, which lies always so near to the moonlight, and was not in
front of him at all. So he returned to his fallen antagonist and found
him breathing heavily where he fell, scarcely conscious. The third
stroke of the frying-pan had done its work surely. Rodriguez' fury died
down, only because it is difficult to feel two emotions at once: it
died down as pity took its place, though every now and then it would
suddenly flare and fall again. He returned his sword and lifted the
young hidalgo and carried him to the door of the house under which they
had fought.

With one fist he beat on the door without putting the hurt man down,
and continued to hit it until steps were heard, and bolts began to
grumble, as though disturbed too early from their rusty sleep in stone
sockets.

The door of the house with the balcony was opened by a servant who,
when he saw who it was that Rodriguez carried, fled into the house in
alarm, as one who runs with bad news. He carried one candle and, when
he had disappeared with the steaming flame, Rodriguez found himself in
a long hall lit by the moonlight only, which was looking in through the
small contorted panes of the upper part of a high window. Alone with
echoes and shadows Rodriguez carried the hurt man through the hall, who
was muttering now as he came back to consciousness. And, as he went,
there came to Rodriguez thoughts between wonder and hope, for he had
had no thought at all when he beat on the door except to get shelter
and help for the hurt man. At the end of the hall they came to an open
door that led into a chamber partly shining with moonlight.

"In there," said the man that he