After these gentlemen had left the company, Rinconete, who was of a very inquiring disposition, begged leave to ask Monipodio in what way two persons so old, grave, and formal as those he had just seen, could be of service to their community.  Monipodio replied, that such were called “Hornets” in their jargon, and that their office was to poke about all parts of the city, spying out such places as might be eligible for attempts to be afterwards made in the night-time.  “They watch people who receive money from the bank or treasury,” said he, “observe where they go with it, and, if possible, the very place in which it is deposited.  When this is done, they make themselves acquainted with the thickness of the walls, marking out the spot where we may most conveniently make our guzpataros, which are the holes whereby we contrive to force an entrance.  In a word, these persons are among the most useful of the brotherhood:  and they receive a fifth of all that the community obtains by their intervention, as his majesty does, on treasure trove.  They are, moreover, men of singular integrity and rectitude.  They lead a respectable life, and enjoy a good reputation, fearing God and regarding the voice of their consciences, insomuch that not a day passes over their heads in which they have not heard mass with extraordinary devotion.  There are, indeed, some of them so conscientious, that they content themselves with even less than by our rules would be their due.  Those just gone are of this number.  We have two others, whose trade it is to remove furniture; and as they are daily employed in the conveyance of articles for persons who are changing their abode, they know all the ins and outs of every house in the city, and can tell exactly where we may hope for profit and where not.”

“That is all admirable,” replied Rinconete, “and greatly do I desire to be of some use to so noble a confraternity.”

“Heaven is always ready to favour commendable desires,” replied Monipodio.

While the two were thus discoursing, a knock was heard at the door, and Monipodio went to see who might be there.  “Open, Sor[36] Monipodio—­open,” said a voice without; “it is I, Repolido.”

[36] Sor the contraction of Senor.

Cariharta hearing this voice, began to lift up her own to heaven, and cried out, “Don’t open the door, Senor Monipodio; don’t let in that Tarpeian mariner—­that tiger of Ocana."[37]

[37] “Ocana” is a city at no great distance from Madrid; and if the lady has placed her tiger there, instead of in Hyrcania, as she doubtless intended, it is of course because her emotions had troubled her memory.  The “Tarpeian mariner” is a fine phrase surely, but its meaning is not very clear.

Monipodio opened the door, nevertheless, in despite of her cries; when Cariharta, starting to her feet, hurried away, and hid herself in the room where the bucklers were hung up.  There, bolting the door, she bawled from her refuge, “Drive out that black-visaged coward, that murderer of innocents, that white-livered terror of house-lambs, who durst not look a man in the face.”