“I thank you, friends, I find you vigilant,” she said in a voice she might have used upon two honest hounds that had pleased her well with their fidelity. She gave us the tips of her slender fingers to caress, and then returned to her chamber with a calm disdain that filled us with a kind of passion. During the remainder of the night there was no more sleep for her two faithful servants, who went back to their table and passed the hours till dawn casting the dice and descanting upon her beauty. At the first beams of day we went forth into the streets of the sleeping city, walking arm-in-arm and discussing the adventures that were likely to befall us. The Count of Nullepart was a man of some thirty years of age, and so deeply versed in the ways of the world that he viewed this odd matter in the light of a diversion rather than as a truly momentous affair. “I do not love you the less, Don Miguel,” he said, “because you are entranced by this fair unknown. But you must not take it amiss if I follow your ravishment at a respectful distance. She is indeed a sweet thing, and of an infinite caprice, and we must indeed be grateful for her boldness, wherever it may lead. It may enable us to forget the world for a season; and above all, my dear Don Miguel, is not that the aim of a ripe philosophy?” It surprised me that my comrade should permit himself such a whimsical indifference upon this subject; yet, after all, I was moved to the reflection that it was not so surprising neither, as he appeared to be of her kin. The way led us directly to the market square, whereupon the Count of Nullepart insisted upon proceeding to the identical spot in which we had first become acquainted. “That was an unequal combat, my dear Don Miguel, you waged with the horse-dealer,” he said, laughing. “I never derived a greater pleasure from anything than the manner in which your own delicate and gentle wits endeavoured to surmount the nimble ones of that hard-featured rogue.” “I believe,” said I, “that yesterday was the turning-point of my life. In the forenoon I suffered a grievous hap; in the afternoon I gained a dear friend; and in the evening I set my eyes upon the mistress who is to be the pole-star of my fortune.” Having uttered this prophecy, I recited to my companion the noble words of Don Ygnacio touching this matter. He smiled his approval of them, and assured me that my father must have been a great gentleman. We then retraced our steps to the inn, lest we should keep our wonderful lady waiting. Yet as we made towards it, the Count of Nullepart in his whimsical fashion vowed we should find her flown. CHAPTER XIV OF THE JOURNEYING BACK TO THE HOUSE OF MY REJECTION