“Well, if that’s the case, you have only to scrape away a little mortar from the gate-post near the hinge, and I will give you, through that opening, a pair of pincers and a hammer, with which you may by night draw out the nails of the staple, and we can easily put that to rights again, so that no one will ever suspect that the lock was opened.  Once shut up with you in your loft, or wherever you sleep, I will go to work in such style that you will turn out even better than I said, to my own personal advantage, and to the increase of your accomplishments.  You need not give yourself any concern about what we shall have to eat.  I will bring enough to last us both for more than a week, for I have pupils who will not let me be pinched.”

“As for that matter we are all right; for with what my master allows me, and the leavings brought me by the slave-girls, we should have enough for two more besides ourselves.  Only bring the hammer and pincers, and I will make an opening close to the hinge, through which you may pass them in, and I will stop it up again with mud.  I will take the fastenings out of the lock, and even should it be necessary to give some loud knocks, my master sleeps so far off from this gate, that it must be either a miracle or our extraordinary ill luck if he hears them.”

“Well, then, with the blessing of God, friend Luis, in two days from this time you shall have everything necessary for the execution of your laudable purpose.  Meanwhile, take care not to eat such things as are apt to make phlegm, for they do the voice no good, but a deal of harm.”

“Nothing makes me so hoarse so much as wine, but I would not give it up for all the voices above ground.”

“Don’t think I would have you do so; God forbid!  Drink, Luis my boy, drink; and much good may it do you, for wine drunk in measure never did any one harm.”

“I always drink in measure.  I have a jug here that holds exactly three pints and a half.  The girls fill this for me unknown to my master, and the purveyor brings me on the sly a bottle holding a good gallon, which makes up for the deficiency of the jug.”

“That’s the way to live, my boy, for a dry throat can neither grunt nor sing.”

“Well, go your ways now, and God be with you; but don’t forget to come and sing here every night until such time as you bring the tools for getting you within doors.  My fingers itch to be at the guitar.”

“I’ll come, never fear, and I’ll bring some new tunes too.”

“Ay, do; but before you go away now, sing me something that I may go to sleep pleasantly; and for the matter of payment, be it known to the senor pobre that I will be more liberal than many a rich man.”

“Oh, I ain’t uneasy on that score.  If you think I teach you well, I will leave it to yourself to pay me accordingly.  And now I’ll just sing you one song, but when I am inside you will see wonders.”

Here ended this long dialogue, and Loaysa sang a sprightly ditty with such good effect, that the negro was in ecstacies, and felt as if the time for opening the door would never arrive.