“I will retain the right of choice,” said Preciosa; and then she continued her way with her companions up the street, when some gentlemen called and beckoned to them from a latticed window.  Preciosa went up and looked through the window, which was near the ground, into a cheerful, well-furnished apartment, in which several cavaliers were walking about, and others playing at various games.  “Will you give me a share of your winnings, senors?” said Preciosa, in the lisping accent of the gipsies, which she spoke not by nature but from choice.  At the sight of Preciosa, and at the sound of her voice, the players quitted the tables, the rest left off lounging, and all thronged to the window, for her fame had already reached them.  “Come in!  Let the little gipsies come in,” said the cavaliers, gaily; “we will certainly give them a share of our winnings.”

“But you might make it cost us dear, senors,” said Preciosa.

“No, on the honour of gentlemen,” said one, “you may come in, nina, in full security that no one will touch the sole of your shoe.  I swear this to you by the order I wear on my breast;” and as he spoke he laid his hand on the cross of the order of Calatrava which he wore.

“If you like to go in, Preciosa,” said one of the gitanillas who were with her, “do so by all means; but I do not choose to go where there are so many men.”

“Look you, Christina,” answered Preciosa, “what you have to beware of is one man alone; where there are so many there is nothing to fear.  Of one thing you may be sure, Christina; the woman who is resolved to be upright may be so amongst an army of soldiers.  It is well, indeed, to avoid occasions of temptation, but it is not in crowded rooms like this that danger lurks.”

“Well then, let us go in, Preciosa,” said her companion, “you know more than a witch.”

The old gipsy also encouraged them to go in, and that decided the question.  As soon as they had entered the room, the cavalier of the order, seeing the paper which Preciosa carried, stretched out his hand to take it.  “Do not take it from me,” she said:  “It is a romance but just given to me, and which I have not yet had time to read.”

“And do you know how to read, my girl?” said one of the cavaliers.

“Ay, and to write too,” said the old woman.  “I have brought up my grandchild as if she was a lawyer’s daughter.”

The cavalier opened the paper, and finding a gold crown inclosed in it, said, “Truly, Preciosa, the contents of this letter are worth the postage.  Here is a crown inclosed in the romance.”

“The poet has treated me like a beggar,” said Preciosa; “but it is certainly a greater marvel for one of his trade to give a crown than for one of mine to receive it.  If his romances come to me with this addition, he may transscribe the whole Romancero General and send me every piece in it one by one.  I will weigh their merit; and if I find there is good matter in them, I will not reject them.  Read the paper aloud, senor, that we may see if the poet is as wise as he is liberal.”  The cavalier accordingly read as follows:—­