The musicians departed at the approach of dawn.  Avendano and Carriazo returned to their room, where one of them slept till morning.  They then rose, both of them eager to see Costanza, but the one only from curiosity, the other from love.  Both were gratified; for Costanza came out of her master’s room looking so lovely, that they both felt that all the praises bestowed on her by the muleteer, fell immeasurably short of her deserts.  She was dressed in a green bodice and petticoat, trimmed with the same colour.  A collar embroidered with black silk set off the alabaster whiteness of her neck.  The thick tresses of her bright chestnut hair were bound up with white ribbon; she had pendents in her ears which seemed to be pearls, but were only glass; her girdle was a St. Francis cord, and a large bunch of keys hung at her side.  When she came out of the room she crossed herself, and made a profound reverence with great devotion to an image of our Lady, that hung on one of the walls of the quadrangle.  Then looking up and seeing the two young men intently gazing on her, she immediately retired again into the room, and called thence to Argueello to get up.

Carriazo, it must be owned, was much struck by Costanza’s beauty; he admired it as much as his companion, only he did not fall in love with her; on the contrary, he had no desire to spend another night in the inn, but to set out at once for the fisheries.

La Argueello presently appeared in the gallery with two young women, natives of Gallicia, who were also servants in the inn; for the number employed in the Sevillano was considerable, that being one of the best and most frequented houses of its kind in Toledo.  At the same time the servants of the persons lodging in the inn began to assemble to receive oats for their masters’ beasts; and the host dealt them out, all the while grumbling and swearing at his maid-servants who had been the cause of his losing the services of a capital hostler, who did the work so well and kept such good reckoning, that he did not think he had ever lost the price of a grain of oats by him.  Avendano, who heard all this, seized the opportunity at once.  “Don’t fatigue yourself, senor host,” he said; “give me the account-book, and whilst I remain here I will give out the oats, and keep such an exact account of it that you will not miss the hostler who you say has left you.”

“Truly I thank you for the offer, my lad,” said the host, “for I have no time to attend to this business; I have too much to do, both indoors and out of doors.  Come down and I will give you the book; and mind ye, these muleteers are the very devil, and will do you out of a peck of oats under your very nose, with no more conscience than if it was so much chaff.”