going to entrust you with a commission which I hope you will fulfil carefully like a good friend. Listen well to what I tell you. You see that tower that leans this way, as if to see what is passing here, or hear what we are saying?”
“The Torre Nueva? I see it. What charge are you going to give me for that lady?”
Day was breaking, and between the irregular-tiled roofs of the city, between the spires and minarets, the balconies and the cupolas of the churches, the Torre Nueva, old and unfinished, stood out distinctly.
“Listen well!” said Augustine. “If I am killed with the first shot on this day which is now dawning, when the battle is ended, and they break ranks, you must go there.”
“To the Torre Nueva? Behold me! I arrive. I enter!”
“No, man, not enter. Listen, I will tell you. You arrive at the Plaza de San Felipe where the tower is. Look yonder! Do you see there near the great pile there is another tower, a little belfry? It seems like an acolyte before his lord the canon, which is the great tower.”
“Yes, now I see the altar-boy. And if I am not mistaken, it is the belfry of San Felipe. And the damned thing is ringing this minute!”
“For mass, it is ringing for mass,” said Augustine, with great emotion. “Do you not hear the cracked bell?”
“Very plainly. Let us know what I have to say to this Mr. Altar-boy who is ringing the cracked bell.”
“No, no, it is nothing about him. You arrive at the Plaza of San Felipe. If you look at the belfry, you will see it is on a corner, and from this corner runs a narrow street. You enter there, and at the left you will find at a