"Then you must allow me to disobey you, as I do not wish to expose myself to a rebuff."

"What do rebuffs signify when you are in love?... Because from what I hear, you are in love with Fernanda. It is known for a mile round."

"Certainly for a mile round, for that is not saying much," interposed Manuel Antonio.

And Maria Josefa, and Emilita Mateo, and Paco Gomez all corroborated the remark with a smile.

Amalia insisted effectually. Luis had tried his best to avoid suspicion; but as all efforts are ineffectual to exclude every ray of light, she had guessed for some time past that the count nourished in the depths of his heart an affectionate regard for Fernanda.

"Listen to me," she said; "a few days ago somebody happened to say to Moro that he had two false teeth. You cannot think how put out the poor man was; a little more and he would have beaten him who told him of it."

"I am not as bad as that," said the count, "but I expressed myself somewhat emphatically, as injustice always annoys me," and he smiled shamefacedly.

"Oh! excitement in such cases is always suspicious. When one feels no interest in anybody, one is not so vehement in denying it. Caramba! I never saw you so put out as you are now. One can see that the girl has a valiant champion ready to break lances on her behalf."

The lady did not leave the joke. She seemed to wish the count to think that his love for Fernanda was a foregone conclusion. In spite of the kind smile on her face, there were certain strange inflexions in her voice that were only noticeable to one person present at that moment.

But the _riG.o.don_ was over and the little group was augmented by the arrival of several other couples. Some came, and others went, until at last the lady found herself surrounded by fresh people. Another waltz was danced, and another. Then twelve o'clock struck from the cathedral clock. And as the young people showed no sign of dispersing, Manin, according to the custom of the house, appeared by Don Pedro's order at the drawing-room door with an armful of wraps belonging to the ladies.

This was the signal for withdrawal adopted by the Senor de Quinones at his parties. It was not very courteous, but n.o.body was offended; on the contrary, it was received in good part and considered a pleasant sort of joke.

After they had all shaken hands with the Grandee, they formed a group in the middle of the drawing-room, and Amalia in the centre bade farewell to her female friends, as she kissed them affectionately. She was pale, and her eyes looked anxious and feverish as she gave her hand to the count; she turned her head aside, feigning inattention; but she pressed his fingers firmly three or four times as if to inspire him with courage, for indeed the poor man was in want of it. He was so nervous and trembling that Amalia thought that he would collapse entirely.

And then the guests quickly pa.s.sed into the pa.s.sages and down the damp stone staircase. A servant was there to open the street-door.

"Ah! Who left this basket here?" said Emilita Mateo, who was the first to come across the obstruction.

"A basket?" asked several ladies as they came up to her.

"Perhaps some poor creature asleep about here," said the servant, who had not yet closed the door.

"There is n.o.body to be seen," said Manuel Antonio, who had quickly surveyed the portico.

Curiosity then prompted one of the ladies to raise the cloth which covered the basket. Whereupon the same exclamation was heard that Pharaoh's daughter uttered when she saw the celebrated basket of Moses floating on the river.

"A child!"

Then ensued a moment of amazement and curiosity among the guests. They all rushed forward, all wishing to see the foundling at once. For no one doubted for an instant but that the child had been purposely left there. Paco Gomez picked up the basket and uncovered it completely, so as to show the sleeping child to his friends.

Then followed a storm of exclamations.

"Little angel! Who could have been so wicked? Poor little soul! What stony-hearted creatures! Oh, my goodness! Look how beautiful he is! Has he been left in the cold long? The little thing must be perished. Paco, let me touch it."

The basket was pa.s.sed from hand to hand. The ladies, who were very interested and trembling with emotion, pressed so many tender kisses on the cheeks of the newly-born that it was aroused from its sleep.

A feeble cry from the little pink creature filled every heart with pity, and some of the ladies burst into tears.

"Let us take it upstairs so that it may be warmed a little."

"Yes, yes; let us take it upstairs."

And forthwith the chattering crowd rushed into the hall and up the staircase of the mansion of the Quinones, carrying the mysterious basket in triumph.

Amalia was standing pale and motionless in the middle of the drawing-room when the doors were re-opened. Don Pedro had been taken to bed by Manin and another servant. The fresh sudden invasion seemed a great surprise to the lady of the house.

"What is the matter? What is this?" she exclaimed, in an agitated voice.

"A baby, a baby!" was the simultaneous cry of many voices.

"We have just found it in the doorway," said Manuel Antonio, putting down the basket which he had carried upstairs.

"Who left it there?"

"We do not know. It is a foundling. Look! See how beautiful it is, Amalia."

"Perhaps some poor person, who will come and fetch it, just left it in the doorway."

"No, no; we have inspected the doorway, and the street is deserted."

The little creature, who was disturbed by all this excitement, now stretched out its two little rosebud fists, and the compa.s.sion of the ladies was evinced in pa.s.sionate exclamations. Each one wished to kiss it and press it to her bosom. At last Maria Josefa managed to get possession of it, and taking it from the basket she tenderly wrapped it in the cloak with which it had been covered, and pressed it to her bosom. Then a paper which had been in the child's clothes fell to the ground. Manuel Antonio picked it up. On the paper was written in large awkward-looking characters, evidently with the left hand: "The unhappy mother of this baby girl commends her to the charity of the Senores de Quinones. It is not baptised."

"It is a girl, then!" exclaimed several ladies in one voice.

And in the tone of this remark it was evident that the discovery was somewhat disappointing. They had been so certain it was a boy.

"What mystery is this?" asked Manuel Antonio, whilst a malicious smile curled his lip.

"Mystery? There is no mystery," returned Amalia with some displeasure.

"It is evidently some poor woman who wants her child to be maintained."

"Notwithstanding, there is a _je ne sais quoi_ strain of mystery about the matter, and I would wager that the parents of this baby are well-to-do," replied the Magpie.

"Well, now you are getting foolish!" exclaimed the lady, with a nervous smile. "Well-to-do people do not leave their children dressed in rags."

Certainly the baby was dressed in miserable clothes and covered with a scanty, dirty cloak.

"Gently, Amalia, gently," interposed Saleta in his clear, quiet voice.

"Many years ago I found in the doorway of my house in Madrid a child enveloped in very old clothes, and at the end of some time we ascertained that he was the son of a very important personage, who shall be nameless."

All eyes were now turned to the Galician magistrate in surprise.

"It was a very important personage, it was----" he continued, after a pause, with the same cool impertinence: "well, it was very easy to guess who it was; the features of the face showed him to be a perfect Bourbon."

The audience was quite taken aback. They looked at each other with the slightly amused smile prevalent on such occasions, and Saleta was quite unconcerned.

"Hurry up!" exclaimed Valero; "won't you have your umbrella?"

"The child died when he was two months old," continued the imperturbable Saleta; "and it was a fact that when we went to the cemetery, a carriage joined the funeral cortege, and n.o.body knew to whom it belonged. But I knew it, for I had seen it in the royal stables; however, I held my tongue."