After returning the watch to its fob, I once more glanced towards the entrance of Don Eusebio's dwelling--at a wicket in the great gate, through which I expected the cochero to come. The gate was still close shut; but, to my surprise, the man was standing outside of it! Either he, or some one else? I had heard no noise--no shooting of bolts, nor creaking of hinges. Surely it could not be the cochero? I soon perceived that it was not; nor anything that in the least degree resembled him. My _vis-a-vis_ on the opposite side of the street was, like myself, enveloped in a cloak, and wearing a black sombrero. Despite the disguise, and the dim light afforded by the _lard_, there was no mistaking him for either domestic, tradesman, or lepero. His air and attitude--his well-knit figure, gracefully outlined underneath the loose folds of the broadcloth--above all, the lineaments of a handsome face--at once proclaimed the "cavallero." In appearance he was a man of about my own age: twenty-five, not more. Otherwise he may have had the advantage of me; for, as I gazed on his features--ill lit as they were by the feebly glimmering lamp--I fancied I had never looked on finer. A pair of black moustaches curled away from the corners of a mouth, that exhibited twin rows of white regular teeth. They were set in a pleasing smile. Why that pain shooting through my heart, as I beheld it? I was disappointed that he was not the cochero for whom I had been keeping watch. But it was not this. Far different was the sentiment with which I regarded him. Instead of the "go-between" I had expected to employ, I felt a suspicion, that I was looking upon a _rival_! A successful one, too, I could not doubt. His splendid appearance gave earnest of that. He had not paused in front of the Casa Villa-Senor without a purpose--as was evident from the way in which he paced the banquette beneath, while glancing at the balcon above. I could see that his eyes were fixed on that very window--by my own oft passionately explored! His look and bearing--both full of confidence--told that he had been there before--often before; and that he was now at the spot--not like myself on an errand of doubtful speculation, but by _appointment_! I could tell, that he had not come to avail himself of the services of the cochero. His eyes did not turn towards the grand entrance-gate, but remained fixed upon the balcony above--where he evidently expected some one to make appearance. Shadowed by the portal, I was not seen by him; though I cared not a straw about that. My remaining in concealment was a mere mechanical act--an instinct, if you prefer the phrase. From the first I felt satisfied, that my own "game was up," and that I had no longer any business with the domestic of Don Eusebio Villa-Senor. His daughter was already engaged!