The engineer was enchanted.

Rosarito opened one of the windows.

“Look,” she said, “this window opens into the garden.  The sun comes in here in the afternoon.  Here we have hung the cage of a canary that sings as if he was crazy.  If his singing disturbs you we will take it away.”

She opened another window on the opposite side of the room.

“This other window,” she continued, “looks out on the street.  Look; from here you can see the cathedral; it is very handsome, and full of beautiful things.  A great many English people come to see it.  Don’t open both windows at the same time, because draughts are very bad.”

“My dear cousin,” said Pepe, his soul inundated with an inexplicable joy; “in all that is before my eyes I see an angel’s hand that can be only yours.  What a beautiful room this is!  It seems to me as if I had lived in it all my life.  It invites to peace.”

Rosarito made no answer to these affectionate expressions, and left the room, smiling.

“Make no delay,” she said from the door; “the dining-room too is down stairs—­in the centre of this hall.”

Uncle Licurgo came in with the luggage.  Pepe rewarded him with a liberality to which the countryman was not accustomed, and the latter, after humbly thanking the engineer, raised his hand to his head with a hesitating movement, and in an embarrassed tone, and mumbling his words, he said hesitatingly: 

“When will it be most convenient for me to speak to Senor Don Jose about a—­a little matter of business?”

“A little matter of business?  At once,” responded Pepe, opening one of his trunks.

“This is not a suitable time,” said the countryman.  “When Senor Don Jose has rested it will be time enough.  There are more days than sausages, as the saying is; and after one day comes another.  Rest now, Senor Don Jose.  Whenever you want to take a ride—­the nag is not bad.  Well, good-day, Senor Don Jose.  I am much obliged to you.  Ah!  I had forgotten,” he added, returning a few moments later.  “If you have any message for the municipal judge—­I am going now to speak to him about our little affair.”

“Give him my compliments,” said Pepe gayly, no better way of getting rid of the Spartan legislator occurring to him.

“Good-by, then, Senor Don Jose.”

“Good-by.”

The engineer had not yet taken his clothes out of the trunk when for the third time the shrewd eyes and the crafty face of Uncle Licurgo appeared in the door-way.

“I beg your pardon, Senor Don Jose,” he said, displaying his brilliantly white teeth in an affected smile, “but—­I wanted to say that if you wish to settle the matter by means of friendly arbitrations——­ Although, as the saying is, ’Ask other people’s opinion of something that concerns only yourself, and some will say it is white and others black.’”

“Will you get away from here, man?”