f
crabbed gipsy oaths.

"But enough of this, Tia," he said; "be reasonable, and you will find me
generous. Only I must be the judge of what is mine own, that is all, my
bitter-sweet Ronda pippin."

"Curses upon you and all that you may bring forth, on your burying, on
your children and your children's children!" cried the woman.

"Come--come--that will do, Tia," cried Luis, striking the table with his
hand. "I value not your curses this single fig of Spain." (Here he made
towards her the gesture with finger and thumb which averts the evil
eye.) "But if I hear any more of this I will put you to the door without
so much as a single silver spoon. Whereupon you will be welcome to do
your worst."

"I do not see why you want both the woman and the goods," whined the
Tia, altering her tone. "Did you not say that you desired to keep
nothing which would remind her of her old life? And have not I, by my
decoctions and distillations, kept this silly Dolores in a dream like
that of a child all these weeks since we got rid of that imp of Satan,
Concha Cabezos of Seville?"

"You have--you have indeed done well, my Tia," said the man soothingly,
"and you will find me by no means ungrateful. But come, let us get this
matter settled, and then I must go and look for my drunken
good-for-nothing of a brother, who has doubtless stolen the key of the
wine-cellar, and is at his old tricks again."

"Well, at any rate, I insist upon that string of silver beads," said the
old woman, greedily. "I have been thinking of it all these days, and do
not forget that it was I who wormed out of the widow the hiding-place
where that cunning little Concha had placed Ramon Garcia's strong box."

"There--take it, then," said the man impatiently, and a heavy string of
beads was slid across the table with a clanking noise. "I had not
thought you so good a Christian, Tia!"

"Oh, it is not that," chuckled the hag, clutching the necklace fiercely,
as a starving dog might fall on a bone, and concealing it instantly
beneath her skirts. "But each link hath the stamp upon it--the mint
stamp of Seville--and will pass current for a good duro wherever one may
chance to be. With such a necklace one can never be in want."

"Well," said Luis, "the devil fly away with you and it, Tia! I keep all
the ornaments of gold--let that be understood. My wife might, upon an
occasion, take a yearning for them, and if I had them not to give her,
it might be to the danger of m