ld be impossible to earn the
meanest livelihood here by dancing; it would not be advisable if we
could. For that reason, my knowledge of various tongues making me very
serviceable to Sidi ben Ahmed (who is the most considerable merchant of
this town), I have accepted an office in his house. This will enable me
to keep my engagement with you. You will live at my charge, as I
promised, and you shall want for nothing in reason. If the Moors drink
no wine themselves, they make excellent for those who will, and you
shall not be stinted in that particular."

"Come, this sounds fair enough," cries Dawson. "But pray, Senor, are we
to do nothing for our keep?"

"Nothing beyond what we came here to do," replies he, with a meaning
glance at Moll.

"What!" cries poor Moll, in pain. "We are to dance no more!"

The Don shook his head gravely; and, remembering the jolly, vagabond,
careless, adventurous life we had led these past two months and more,
with a thousand pleasant incidents of our happy junketings, we were all
downcast at the prospect of living in this place--though a paradise--for
a year without change.

"Though I promised you no more than I offer," says the Don, "yet if this
prospect displease you, we will cry quits and part here. Nay," adds he,
taking a purse from his pocket, "I will give you the means to return to
Alicante, where you may live as better pleases you."

It seemed to me that there was an unfeigned carelessness in his manner,
as if he would as lief as not throw up this hazardous enterprise for
some other more sure undertaking. And, indeed, I believe he was then
balancing another alternative in his mind.

At this generous offer Moll dashed away the tears that had sprung to her
eyes, brightening up wonderfully, but then, casting her eyes upon the
Don, her face fell again as at the thought of leaving him. For we all
admired him, and she prodigiously, for his great reserve and many good
qualities which commanded respect, and this feeling was tinged in her
case, I believe, with a kind of growing affection.

Seeing this sentiment in her eyes, the Don was clearly touched by it,
and so, laying his hand gently on her shoulder, he says:

"My poor child, remember you the ugly old women we saw dancing at
Barcelona? They were not more than forty; what will they be like in a
few years? Who will tolerate them? who love them? Is that the end you
choose for your own life--that the estate to which our little princess