"Thou shalt have them," said Villafana, gradually drawing him further from the pool. "His companion is La Monjonaza." "Ha! sits the wind there? I must have a peep at her: they say, she is lovely as a goddess." "Thou wilt incense her," said Villafana, emphatically. "By heaven, thou knowest not the temper of this woman, which is deadly. Leave the two cooing fools to themselves. Our fortunes,--nay, faith, our lives, depend upon them. La Monjonaza is deep in our secrets,--" "Knave!" muttered the pretended friar, in a low but furious voice, "hast thou trusted my life in the keeping of a woman?" "Pho, she is an older conspirator than thou; a wiser, too, for she can keep her temper. Out of her love for the young man, we draw our truest safety and quickest success." "Her love! oh fu! and is she of this corrupt fickleness, that she will have two lovers in one hour? But it is the way with these creatures!" "They are old lovers, very old lovers, senor," said Villafana, endeavouring, as he spoke, but in vain, to quicken the steps of Camarga. "You shall hear the story.--Juan Lerma's father was some low, poor, base fellow, killed in some tumult at Isabela. The old hidalgo, Antonio del Milagro, took the boy out of charity, first as a servant--" "A servant? Dios mio!--Is he of no better beginning?" "Not a jot; but the old fellow liked him, and, in the end, treated him full as well as his own son,--a knavish lad, called Hilario, some two or three years older than Juan." "Slife!" said Camarga, "tell me no granddam's tale, with all tedious particulars. How came the youth into the hands of Cortes?" "Even by setting out to seek his fortune, somewhat early, and getting to Santiago, where Cortes took him into keeping. You heard us say, that Don Hernan, when he received his commission from Velasquez, sent Juan back to his native island, to recruit forces. It was natural he should visit his old friends at Isabela. It was here he met with, and quarrelled about, Magdalena--" "Magdalena!" said Camarga, with surprise. "You swore her name was Infeliz!" "Ay; but the true one is Magdalena. When she came from Spain--" "From Spain!" cried Camarga, starting: "is she not an islander?" "Pho! didst thou ever see a creature of her beauty, born out of Andalusia?" "I have not seen her--but I will,--yes, by all the saints of heaven, I will,--I must.--How came she to the island?"