She remembered again the startling silence of Torre Garda, which was in some degree intensified by the low voice of the river. She lifted her head to listen and caught her breath at the instant realisation of the sound quite near at hand. It was the patter of feet on the terrace below her window. Perro had returned. Marcos must therefore be back again. She dropped her head sleepily on the pillow, expecting to hear some sound in the house indicative of Marcos' return, but not intending to lie awake to listen for it. She did not fall asleep again, however, and Perro continued to patter about on the terrace below as if he were going from window to window seeking an entrance. Juanita began to listen to his movements, expecting him to whimper, and in a few moments he fulfilled her anticipation by giving a little uneasy sound between his teeth. In a moment Juanita was out of bed and at the open window. Perro would awake Sarrion and Marcos, who must be very tired. It was a woman's instinct. Juanita was growing up. Perro heard her, and in obedience to her whispered injunction stood still, looking up at her and wagging his uncouth tail slowly. But he gave forth the uneasy sound again between his teeth. Juanita went back into her room; found her slippers and dressing-gown. But she did not light a candle. She had acquired a certain familiarity with the night from Marcos, and it seemed natural at Torre Garda to fall into the habits of those who lived there. She went the whole length of the balcony to Marcos' room, which was at the other end of the house, while Perro conscientiously kept pace with her on the terrace below. Marcos' window was shut, which meant that he was not there. When he was at home his window stood open by night or day, winter or summer. Juanita returned to Sarrion's room, which was next to her own. The window was ajar. The Spaniards have the habit of the open air more than any other nation of Europe. She pushed the window open. "Uncle Ramon," she whispered. But Sarrion was asleep. She went into the room, which was large and sparsely furnished, and, finding the bed, shook him by the shoulder. "Uncle Ramon," she said, "Perro has come back ... alone." "That is nothing," he replied, reassuringly, at once. "Marcos, no doubt, sent him home. Go back to bed." She obeyed him, going slowly back to the open window. But she paused there. "Listen," she said, with an uneasy laugh. "He has something on his mind. He is whimpering. That is why I woke you." "He often whimpers when Marcos is away. Tell him to be quiet, and then go back to bed," said Sarrion. She obeyed him, setting the window and the jalousie ajar after her as she had found them. But Sarrion did not go to sleep again. He listened for some time. Perro was still pattering to and fro on the terrace, giving from time to time his little plaint of uneasiness between his closed teeth.