Nobody yet appeared stirring in the house; but about ten o’clock our workman observed some of the Moorish women at the windows of Daraxa’s apartment, and shortly after, Daraxa herself with Donna Elvira. He now began to felicitate himself upon his contrivance; and felt delighted with the anticipation of the surprise the ladies would be in, when they should be walking in the garden, and recognize him in this laughable disguise. He even flattered himself, that in this habit, he might occasionally speak to them without danger. He knew not what sort of man Don Lewis was. Independent of Daraxa’s having been recommended to his care by the Queen, in so particular a manner, that he would have considered himself unworthy of such confidence, did he not watch night and day over her actions, he well knew that she had many lovers; and did not believe Daraxa to be more insensible than others, the Moorish women of those days not being considered enemies to love. But was more afraid of enterprises from without, than of inward insensibility; of amorous cavaliers, than of the object beloved. He feared Don Alonso more than any, whom he regarded as a favoured lover. And his fear had by no means subsided, although well informed that this young lord was not yet sufficiently recovered to leave his house, and, consequently, unable to contrive any means of intercourse with the beautiful Moor. A commerce by billet-doux seemed to him to be no less dangerous than the nearest conversation. To relieve his mind entirely from such apprehensions, he pressed the master-mason incessantly to make an end of his work, fearing that some one of the workmen might be bold enough to undertake some amorous commission: this idea kept him constantly uneasy, and obliged him to observe all the labourers. Seeing them at work at the close of this day, he took particular notice of Ambrosio, whom he had not before observed, and who appeared to him a very steady looking young fellow. This examination did not much please the young Moor, who turned pale from fear of being discovered. He had, however, nothing to apprehend; for suspicious and mistrustful as the old man was, he could distinguish nothing but the labourer in Ambrosio; and this false mason left his work at the regular time with the others, having had no other gratification during the whole of the day, than that of seeing his mistress pass him with Don Rodrigo, who was his rival. How much patience is necessary in love, although the most violent of all passions! Ozmin knew this already but too well. He was not, therefore, dispirited, but thought himself amply rewarded for his trouble, in having seen his beloved. If this can satisfy a Spaniard, why should it not suffice to make a Moor feel happy?