But whatever haste Rincon had made to return, he found Cortado at his post before him.  The latter instantly inquired how he had got on.  Rincon opened his hand and showed the three quartos; when Cortado, thrusting his arm into his bosom, drew forth a little purse which appeared to have once been of amber-coloured silk, and was not badly filled.  “It was with this,” said he, “that my service to his reverence the Student has been rewarded—­with this and two quartos besides.  Do you take it, Rincon, for fear of what may follow.”

Cortado had scarcely given the purse in secret to his companion, before the Student returned in a great heat, and looking in mortal alarm.  He no sooner set eyes on Cortado, than, hastening towards him, he inquired if he had by chance seen a purse with such and such marks and tokens, and which had disappeared, together with fifteen crowns in gold pieces, three double reals, and a certain number of maravedis in quartos and octavos.  “Did you take it from me yourself,” he added, “while I was buying in the market, with you standing beside me?”

To this Cortado replied with perfect composure, “All I can tell you of your purse is, that it cannot be lost, unless, indeed, your worship has left it in bad hands.”

“That is the very thing, sinner that I am,” returned the Student.  “To a certainty I must have left it in bad hands, since it has been stolen from me.”  “I say the same,” rejoined Cortado, “but there is a remedy for every misfortune excepting death.  The best thing your worship can do now is to have patience, for after all it is God who has made us, and after one day there comes another.  If one hour gives us wealth, another takes it away; but it may happen that the man who has stolen your purse may in time repent, and may return it to your worship, with all the interest due on the loan.”

“The interest I will forgive him,” exclaimed the Student; and Cortado resumed:—­“There are, besides, those letters of excommunication, the Paulinas;[15] and there is also good diligence in seeking for the thief, which is the mother of success.  Of a truth, Sir, I would not willingly be in the place of him who has stolen your purse; for if your worship have received any of the sacred orders, I should feel as if I had been guilty of some great crime—­nay of sacrilege—­in stealing from your person.”

[15] Paulinas are the letters of excommunication despatched by the ecclesiastical courts for the discovery of such things as are supposed to be stolen or maliciously concealed.

“Most certainly the thief has committed a sacrilege,” replied the Student, in pitiable tones; “for although I am not in orders, but am only a Sacristan of certain nuns, yet the money in my purse was the third of the income due from a chapelry, which I had been commissioned to receive by a priest, who is one of my friends, so that the purse does, in fact, contain blessed and sacred money.”