“That will do,” said one of the women; “and now, senor, be sure you don’t forget the powder, for that is the main thing of all.”

Here the conversation ended for that night, and all parties retired highly satisfied with the interview.  Good luck had evidently declared in favour of Loaysa; and just then, about two o’clock in the morning, it brought his friends to the door.  On their giving the usual signal by blowing a French horn, he went to the door, told them what progress he had made, and asked had they brought the powder or other drug to put Carrizales to sleep.  At the same time, he spoke to them respecting the master-key.  They told him that on the following night they would bring the powder, or else an ointment of such virtue that one had only to rub the patient’s wrists and temples with it to throw him into such a profound sleep, that he would not wake for two days, unless the anointed parts were well washed with vinegar.  As to the key, he had only to give them the impression in wax, and they would have a false one made forthwith.  Having said this, the friends retired, and Loaysa and his pupil went to rest for the short remainder of the night.  The next day hung heavily on hand, as always happens to those who are filled with eager expectation; but the longest day must have an end, and Loaysa’s impatient desire was at last gratified.

The appointed hour having arrived, all the domestics, great and small, black and white, repaired to the turning-box, longing to see the senor musico fairly within their seraglio; but no Leonora was there.  When Loaysa inquired for her, they said she was in bed with her good man, who had locked the bed-room door, and put the key under his pillow; and that their lady had told them, that when the old man had fallen asleep she would take the key, and they were to go to her by and by for the wax impression she would take from it, and pass to them through a trap-hole in the door.  Loaysa was astonished at the old man’s extreme wariness, in spite of which he by no means despaired of baffling his precautions.  Just then the French horn was heard:  Loaysa hastened to the door, and received from his friends a pot containing the promised ointment.  Bidding them wait awhile, and he would bring them the mould of the key, he went back to the turning-box, and told the duena, who seemed the most eager of all the women for his admission, to give the ointment to her lady, bid her anoint her husband with it so cautiously that he should not be aware of what she was doing, and she would soon see wonders.  The duena took the pot, stole up to her mistress’s door, and found her waiting on the inside, stretched full length on the floor, with her face to the trap-hole.  The duena laid herself down in the same manner, and putting her mouth to her mistress’s ear, whispered that she had brought the ointment, telling her at the same time how to apply it.  Leonora took the ointment, but told the duena that she could by no means get the key, for her husband