“Gabriel, time is passing and we have much to do and to talk about.  It is a little past eleven, but we have still several hours to do the thing well.”

“What do you mean to say?” asked Luna, surprised.

“Few words—­in a nut-shell.  It concerns your becoming rich and us also; we intend to get out of this poverty.  You have noticed for some time that we have avoided you, that we preferred talking among ourselves to the pleasure of listening to you.  We all know that you are very learned, but as far as things of this life go you are not worth a farthing.  We have learnt a great deal from you, but that does not get us out of our poverty.  We have spent months thinking how to make a lucky stroke.  These revolutions of which you speak seem to us very far off; our grandchildren may see them, but we never shall.  It is all right for clever people to look to the future, but ignorant people like us look to the present.  We have employed our time discussing all sorts of schemes, to kidnap Don Sebastian and require a million of ransom, to break into the palace one night, and I don’t know what besides!  All wild ideas started by your nephew.  But this morning in my house, while we were lamenting our poverty, we suddenly saw our salvation close at hand.  You as the sole guardian of the Cathedral.  The Virgin on the high altar, with the jewels that are locked up in the Treasury all the rest of the year, and I with the keys in my power.  The easiest thing in the world.  Let us clean out the Virgin and take the road to Madrid, where we shall arrive at dawn; the Tato knows a lot of people there among cloak stealers.  We will hide ourselves there for a little while, and then you, who know the world, will guide us.  We will go to America, sell the stones, and we shall be rich.  Get up, Gabriel!  We are going to strip the idol, as you say.”

“But this is a robbery that you are proposing!” exclaimed Luna, alarmed.

“A robbery?” said the bell-ringer.  “Call it so, if you like—­and, what then?  Are you afraid of it?  More has been robbed from us, who were born with the right to a share of the world, but however much we look round we cannot find a vacant place.  Besides, what harm do we do to anybody?  These jewels are of no use to the bit of wood they cover, it does not eat, it does not feel the cold in winter, and we are poor miserable creatures.  You yourself have said it, Gabriel, seeing our poverty.  Our children die of hunger on their mother’s knees, while these idols are covered with wealth, come along, Gabriel, do not let us lose any more time.”

“Come along, uncle,” said the Tato, “have a little courage.  You must admit we ignorant people know how to manage things when it comes to the point.”