!
That, at least, was what Rafael seemed to read in those clear, luminous
eyes of the golden sparkles that caressed him with their velvety touch
every time he dared to look at them. Leonora was staring at him:
studying him in the lamplight, as if trying to understand the difference
between the man in front of her and the boy she had met on her walk to
the Hermitage.

Dona Pepa's spirits rallied now that men were in the house; and with a
supreme effort of will, the old lady decided to leave her armchair for a
look at the flood, which had stopped rising, if, indeed, it were not
actually receding.

"How much water, oh Lord our God!... How many terrible things we'll
learn of tomorrow! This must be a punishment from Heaven ... a warning
to us to think of our many sins."

Leonora meanwhile was bustling busily about, hurrying the refreshments.
Those gentlemen couldn't be left like that--she kept cautioning to her
maid and the peasant woman. Just imagine, with their clothes wet
through! How tired they must be after that all night struggle! Poor
fellows! It was enough just to look at them! And she set biscuits on the
table, cakes, a bottle of rum--everything, including a box of Russian
cigarettes with gilded tips--to the shocked surprise of the gardener's
wife.

"Let them come here, auntie," she said to the old lady. "Don't make them
talk any more now.... They need to eat and drink a little, and get
warm.... I'm sorry I have so little to offer you. What in the world can
I get for them? Let's see! Let's see!"

And while the two men were being forced, by that somewhat despotic
attentiveness, to take seats at the table, Leonora and her maid went
into the adjoining room, where keys began to rattle and tops of chests
to rise and fall.

Rafael, in his deep emotion, could scarcely manage a few drops of rum;
but the barber chewed away for all he was worth, downing glass after
glass of liquor, and talking on and on through a mouth crammed with food
while his face grew redder and redder.

When Leonora reappeared, her maid was following her with a great bundle
of clothes in her arms.

"You understand, of course, we haven't a stitch of men's clothes in the
house. But in war-time we get along as best we can, eh? We're in what
you might call a state of siege here."

Rafael noted the dimples that a charming smile traced in those wonderful
cheeks! And what perfect teeth--jewels in a casket of red velvet!

"Now, Cupido; off with th