han the young one to the progress of the
sport, watched the proceedings of Andres with the look of a dog who
scents a thief. As he persisted in his contemplation of his pretty
neighbour, the old lady's anger gradually increased; she fidgeted on her
seat, rattled her fan, pushed her companion with her elbow, and asked
her all sorts of questions to oblige her to turn her head. But the young
girl either did not or would not understand; she gave short answers, and
resumed her attentive and serious attitude.

"The devil take the old witch!" muttered Andres. "Tis a thousand pities
they have abolished the Inquisition! With such a face as that, she would
have been treated, without form of trial, to a ride on an ass, dressed
in a _san-benito_ and a sulphur shirt. She belongs to the seminary of
Barahona, and washes young girls for the sorcerers' sabbath."

Juancho, whose turn to kill had not yet come, stood carelessly in the
centre of the circus, paying no more attention to the bulls than if
they had been so many sheep. He scarcely deigned to take two or three
steps aside when the furious beasts showed a disposition to attack him.
His large bright black eye glanced round boxes, galleries, and benches,
where thousands of fans, of every hue, fluttered and palpitated like
butterflies' wings. He evidently sought some one. At last a gleam of joy
flashed across his brown features, and he made the slightest possible
movement of his head, the sort of salutation that actors sometimes
address to their acquaintances before the curtain. It was directed to
the bench on which sat the old woman and the young girl.

"Militona," said the duenna in a low voice, "Juancho sees us. Be
cautious! that young man ogles you, and Juancho is jealous."

"What is that to me?" replied Militona in the same tone.

"You know he does not jest with those who displease him."

"I have not looked at the gentleman, and besides, am I not my own
mistress?"

In saying she had not looked at Andres, Militona was guilty of a slight
equivocation. She had not _looked_ at him, perhaps, for women can see
without looking, but she could have given a most minute description of
his person. And out of respect to truth, we must here mention that she
took Don Andres de Salcedo for what he really was, a very smart and
good-looking cavalier.

Andres, as a pretext for commencing a conversation, called one of those
dealers in oranges, preserved fruits, lozenges, and other sweetmeat