heavy cudgels as walking sticks.
A little before ten the servant of Mercedes left the house; Pablo, who had already made her acquaintance, overtook her and said:
“Where are you going so fast, my dear?”
“I am going far; I am taking a message to the Arcade of Belem and from there to Sapo street, to the socursal.”
“Does not my pretty one want a drop?”
The pretty one did want a drop, entered the pulqueria, drank, submitted to various pinches, and left. Pablo at once said to his friend: “Run and call the General,” and he planted himself where he could see the house.
A little later poor Mercedes, who suspected nought of what was plotting for her undoing, opened the windows and looked out. It was the signal, arranged between her and Patillitas, indicating that there were no Moors on the coast and that the happy lover might enter. He was not slow in appearing, strutting pompously as if enjoying in anticipation the pleasure