"Capa de Dios!" cried he. "Whether is it my person or my cloak you are fancying, Sir Robber?"
I thought I knew the voice, and I hastened to reply:
"I am neither a robber nor assassin, Señor Don—"
I thought the unknown was going to assist my memory, and state his name. He did nothing of the kind; but, putting his back to the door of a house, he said, roughly,
"Who are you, and what do you want?"
"I am seeking for the dwelling of Don Tadeo the licentiate," I replied; "and, if I am not greatly deceived, we are standing before it at this very moment."
"Ah! who told you he lived here?"
"Tio Lucas, the public scribe. I wish to consult Don Tadeo on a very important affair."
"Don Tadeo! It is he that is speaking to you just now."
The costume of this man I could not distinguish; his features were precisely similar to the bull-fight amateur, with whose name Tio Lucas had acquainted me. I hastened to reply to Don Tadeo, counting myself happy in having met him, and begged a few minutes' private conversation.
"With the greatest pleasure," he replied. "I am quite ready to take up your affair; but let us first enter the house; we can then speak more at our ease." At the same time, he struck the pommel of his sword against the door behind him. "My profession," added he, "obliges me to employ many precautions. You will immediately comprehend why. Do not be astonished at my queer domicile. You may think me an original, and may have reason."
Don Tadeo paused, and the door of the mysterious
