“It is, my pretty boy,” answered he.
“Perhaps this will interest you,” replied I, handing him the note. He snatched it from me, and would have departed. “Senor,” said I, “I cannot allow my mistress to be affronted. Her favours are beyond all price, but still they are always coupled with gold. Since you are so poor, and gold must pass, here is a piece for you,” and I offered him the doubloon which I had received from the other cavalier.
“You are a witty boy,” replied he, “and have corrected my negligence, for it was nothing more, I assure you. Add this to the other,”—and he put a quarter-doubloon in my hand and disappeared. I returned to the house, and as I had been some time away from my mistress I went into the saloon—where she was sitting alone.
“Pedro, come hither, child, you know how good I have been to you, and how carefully I have brought you up. Now tell me, can you keep a secret?”—“Yes, madam,” replied I, “I can keep yours, for it is my duty.”
“That’s a good child; well then, I have an idea that my two nieces are followed by some of the gay cavaliers, who saw them at Madrid, and I wish you to find out if it is true.—Do you understand?”
“Oh, yes, madam,” replied I; “I do perfectly.”
“Well then, do you watch,—and Pedro, here are two reals for you, to buy sugar-plums.”
Thus did I enter in one day into the real occupation of a page. I added the two reals to the gold, and, as you may suppose, meant to serve as I was paid. But, as I found out afterwards, I had made a terrible mistake with the two billets-doux. That of Donna Emilia I had given to Don Florez, who was Donna Teresa’s admirer; that of Donna Teresa I had given to Don Perez, who was the lover of Donna Emilia; but I had better explain to you, before I go on, what did not come to my knowledge until the denouement took place. Don Perez, the lover of Emilia, was a young man who was entitled to large property, at the death of an uncle, to whom he was heir by entail. Don Florez, on the contrary, was in possession of a splendid fortune, and able to choose for himself. From fear of discovery, the notes were both in a disguised hand, and not signed by the respective Christian names of the ladies. Donna Emilia’s ran thus:—“I found your note in the spot agreed, but my aunt has taken away the key of the shrubbery, and is I believe suspicious.—Why are you so urgent?—I trust your affection, like mine, will but increase from delay. It will be impossible to meet you to-night; but I have entered the page in my service, and will write soon.” That of Donna Teresa, which I put in the hands of Don Perez, ran as follows:—“I can no longer refuse your solicitations for an interview. My aunt has locked up the shrubbery, but if you have courage enough to scale the garden-wall, I will meet you in the saloon which opens upon the garden; but not a word must be said, as the servants are continually passing the door—neither can we have a light—I must trust to your honour.”