Though Don Luis was not to be deceived by the humble demeanour of the innkeeper, or the cool impudence of the friar, his only prudent plan was to pretend to believe them. He therefore waited till order was restored in the room, and the innkeeper had bowed himself away, when, loading his pistols carefully, he threw himself on his bed to wait for daylight. Pedro, however, still suspecting treachery, did not trust to a word that had been said; but, as soon as he saw that his master was again asleep, drawing a chair to the table, he sat himself down with his pistols before him, and a flask of wine, which, standing quietly in a corner, had escaped destruction. "Now, Senhor Frade," he thought, "if you play me false--and I cannot say I trust you--I will have a pop at you with one pistol, while the other shall bring down the first man who attempts to come in at the door." The other servants, though very much frightened at first, dropped off, one by one, to sleep; but he, conquering his drowsiness, kept his eye on the friar, every instant expecting to see the banditti rush into the room. He earnestly longed for day, to quit the place; and, at length, his wishes were gratified by seeing a pale stream of light gleaming through the ill-closing shutters, when, as it grew brighter and brighter, he hurried to open them, and to let in the fresh morning air, rousing his master and the rest of the party. The Friar sat up in his bed and nodded familiarly to him. "If you had trusted to me you might have spent a pleasanter night, Senhor Pedro," said he: "I hope, however, you enjoyed your vigils. Good morning, Don Luis: you remember your promise." "I do not intend to betray you," answered Don Luis; "but you must do me another service. Some jewels were stolen from a young lady who travelled this way yesterday, and I must insist on their being given to me, that I may restore them to their owner; now, I doubt not that you are able to procure them for me. Will you undertake to do so?" The Friar thought for a minute. "If I undertake to procure the jewels, what am I to expect in return?" he asked. "You well know that you deserve nothing, and that I am too lenient in allowing you to escape unpunished," answered Don Luis; "but I will give an hundred milreas to the person who brings them to my father's house in the course of a week." "The bargain is struck," answered the Friar. "And now, senhor, adeos: I shall always retain a high respect for you." "I cannot exactly return the compliment," said Don Luis; "but I shall always remember you, as the most daring, impudent scoundrel I have ever met." "Va com Deos. Get along with you; you are joking, fidalgo," returned the Friar, laughing. "I am but a poor mendicant servant of heaven, and be assured I shall not forget you in my prayers."