in Spain the
fact of a person disappearing is something that gives infinite
importance, and often imperishable glory. For, indeed, when a man
disappears, the public rightly presume that it must be for working out
in secret great and noteworthy undertakings. Those of Mendoza, although
we know not what they were, must have been portentous, if what was said
was true, since they obliged him to remain concealed in Madrid more than
three months, changing his concealment and his disguise any number of
times. Miguel had known something of his life and perils, but at last he
lost track of him.

This was the state of affairs, when one evening, after dinner, while
Rivera was sitting in the library with Maximina on his knee, there was a
tremendous ring at the door-bell.

The young woman was on her feet in a second.

"Who can that be at this time o' day?" queried Miguel. "Has either of
the girls gone out?"

"I think not."

Just then Juana came in.

"Senorito, it is a waiter from the cafe wants to speak with you."

"A waiter from the cafe? I don't remember that I have any account
anywhere.... Tell him to come in."

"Wait! wait!" exclaimed Maximina; "let me get out by this door!"

And she ran out by the parlor door, as was always her custom, when any
of Rivera's visitors came.

At that instant the waiter appeared, and Miguel could scarcely recognize
under his disguise his friend Mendoza.

"Perico!"

"Shhhhhhhhh!" exclaimed Mendoza, putting on an expression of terrible
fear.

And he hastened to bolt the door.

"What is up?" asked Miguel, affecting great anxiety.

Mendoza sat down, heaved a sigh, and answered frankly:--

"Nothing."

"I thought so."

Brutandor, without heeding the irony of those words, began to whisper,
bringing his mouth close to his friend's ear:--

"I have been for the last fortnight at La Florida, hiding in the house
of the laundrymen...."

"Man! if I had known it, I should have made you a visit."

"Don't say anything about visits! They might follow you, and get their
hands on me."

"And how have you enjoyed your visit in the country?"

"I had a pretty fair sort of time. There was only one bed in the house;
in the night while the laundrymen were asleep, I would go out, and take
a walk along the river bank, and at sunrise, when the men were up, I
used to go to bed."

"How cool and delightful it must have been!"

"Well, sometimes it would nauseate me a little; do you wonder? The
Coun