Honest Kuys himself was very much in the habit of wrapping himself snugly in his serapé and taking solitary walks to brood over his past misfortunes—especially in the evening. One night he was returning from one of these rambles rather later than usual, with his sombrero drawn moodily over his eyes, and his figure encased closely in his blanket—when he was perceived, beside his own door, by the little tailor opposite. The tailor, noticing his cloudy aspect and slouched hat, took occasion to remark to the tortilla baker, who was with him at the time, that Kuys de Bogota looked very like a ladrone. This was sufficient: the report was spread by the tortilla-baker and a select circle of friends, that their neighbour was a ladrone; and before noon of the following day it was universally accredited, that honest Kuys was the captain of a band of desperate ladrones then infesting the vicinity.
This, then, was a second discovery! And the worthy residents began to applaud themselves, forthwith, for their sagacity.
On another occasion, also, the daughter was observed to loiter in the public walk after sunset, leaning on the arm of a smartly dressed cavalier, with whom she was laughing and
