We have now only to state that they lived in a large house in the street called “de las Infantas,” which in those days began in “La Hortaleza” street, and ended in a dirty alley, which formed an angle following the garden wall of the convent of the Barefooted Carmelites. CHAPTER II. THE WOOERS. It was in the month of November. The clocks struck ten, an hour of the night when most of the inhabitants of Madrid are at home, and the streets were almost deserted, dark, and silent. There was no moonlight and the stars were not very bright, for the sky was clouded near the horizon. A man entered Infanta street, coming from the direction of Hortaleza, while at the same time another appeared from the other side. It was impossible to distinguish their features, but one was taller and thinner than the other. They advanced rapidly to the middle of the street,—it was dangerous to walk near the walls as an arm clasping a dagger might dart out from near any entrance,—saw each other and stopped, while at the same time a third man, short and stout, came out of San Bartolome street, and stopped likewise on seeing them. The three remained immovable about fifteen or twenty steps apart, and scrutinized each other as closely as the light would permit. The space where the Bilboa Square is now situated was at that time occupied by some houses belonging to the licenciado (jurisconsult) Barquero, and it was there that, later on, the convent of the Capuchin Friars was built, for reasons which will be explained later. What the three men thought of each other is hard to tell, but it was plain that each one was displeased to find that he was not alone. About five minutes, which must have seemed an interminable time to them, passed, and then all three turned their faces in the same direction, and were able to watch Doña Elena’s house, and to see that a light was visible through a crevice in one of the balconies. “They are not asleep yet,” said one to himself, “but these fellows are in my way.” “Are they after the same thing as I?” the second asked himself. “I shall be patient and come back later,” murmured the third. “They are looking at the balcony.” “Which of them is it?” “This affair is beginning badly and may end worse.” Another five minutes passed, and then the tallest one, losing patience, turned and walked slowly up the street. “Since he is going I sha’n’t stay here. I’ll follow him and try to bring to light that which is as dark as this unfortunate night.” And the one who came out of the garden also went up the street. A few minutes after, the chubby one followed the other two. We cannot tell whether each one knew that he was followed by the others, or not, but after passing several streets they reached one called “Majaderitos,” or to speak more correctly the first reached it, the second being in Carretas street, and the third in Puerta de Sol.