by mending his shoes. For which he
received payment in the permission to pass that night without being
discommoded by the chain.

"It's so very kind of you, Don Gregorio!" he said, when made aware of
the grace to be given to him. "I ought to sleep sound this night,
anyhow. But whether I do or not, I shall pray for you before going to
bed all the same. _Buenas noches_!"

It was twilight outside, but almost total darkness within the cell, as
the mayor-domo turned to go out of it. Otherwise he might have seen on
the dwarfs features an expression calculated to make him repent his act
of kindness, and instantly undo it. Could he have divined the thoughts
at that moment passing through Zorillo's mind, the clasp would have
quickly closed around the latter's leg, despite all gratitude due to him
for the patching of the shoes.

"If I can get out," he commenced in mental soliloquy, as the footfall of
the mayor-domo died away in the distant corridor, "out and away from
them, my fortune's made; all sorts of good things in store for me. From
this time forth I needn't fear to present myself at the door of the
Acordada; walk right into it. No danger of Don Pedro keeping me there
now. Instead, I should be sent out again with a free pardon and a full
purse. _Chingara_, talk of a cat in the cupboard, here are a score of
them--half a hundred! And when I let them out--aha!"

He paused; then rising to his feet, moved across to the door, and laid
his ear against it to listen. He heard sounds, but they were sounds of
merriment--the counterfeit monks at their evening meal--and did not
concern him.

"What a bit of luck it may turn out, after all, my getting coupled to
that great brute and brought here! That is, if all goes well, and I can
give them the slip. First, to make sure about the possibility of
getting out of this hole. _Carrai_! I may be counting my chickens in
the eggs."

Leaving the door, he glided across to the window, and set himself square
against it, as if to measure its breadth by that of his own body. It
was but a slit, unglazed, a single iron bar, placed vertically, dividing
the aperture into two. Without removing this he could not possibly pass
through. But he had the means to remove it; that file, already known to
the reader, which he had contrived to get possession of, and for days
kept secret in his cell. First, however, he must see whether it was
worth while using it; for during all the time of