And the cries of rage were succeeded by joyous shouts. Their faces expanded, and their lips opened in smiles. The host brought the bottles with the fiery sherry, and they drank, toasting the beauty of Elena’s daughters and the friendship which was to unite them from that moment and last forever. They vowed to protect each other, and being true hidalgos were sure to fulfil their oaths. “Listen,” said Señor Alonso suddenly. “We are listening.” “Our friendship must be so firm that it will stand above all other considerations.” “A good idea, and well expressed.” “Is not a friend worth more than a strange woman?” “Much more.” “Well, let us swear that not one of us will marry unless the others succeed in their courtship, too.” “I swear it.” “And I.” “Another cup.” “To Elena’s beautiful daughters!” “To our love!” “To our success!” “More wine, Master Crispin!” “Yes, yes,” said the landlord, “wine instead of blood. But don’t you forget that the faultfinders—” “I shall tear your tongue out.” “Let us be more quiet, my friends,” said the chubby-cheeked. “Why shouldn’t we know all that is said about Doña Elena and her daughters? We will lose nothing by listening to Master Crispin, and it is only just that we should appreciate his good intentions.” “You speak sensibly.” The landlord brought out more wine. However, before we repeat what he said, it would be well to take more particular notice of these hidalgos. CHAPTER III. IN WHICH WE COMPLETE OUR ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE THREE WOOERS, AND OTHER THINGS.