“This is the gentleman they say has come to discover the gold-mines?” said one of the girls.

“And to do away with the cultivation of garlic in Orbajosa to plant cotton or cinnamon trees in its stead?”

Pepe could not help laughing at these absurdities.

“All he has come for is to make a collection of pretty girls to take back with him to Madrid,” said Tafetan.

“Ah!  I’ll be very glad to go!” cried one.

“I will take the three of you with me,” said Pepe.  “But I want to know one thing; why were you laughing at me when I was at the window of the Casino?”

These words were the signal for fresh bursts of laughter.

“These girls are silly things,” said the eldest.

“It was because we said you deserved something better than Dona Perfecta’s daughter.”

“It was because this one said that you are only losing your time, for Rosarito cares only for people connected with the Church.”

“How absurd you are!  I said nothing of the kind!  It was you who said that the gentleman was a Lutheran atheist, and that he enters the cathedral smoking and with his hat on.”

“Well, I didn’t invent it; that is what Suspiritos told me yesterday.”

“And who is this Suspiritos who says such absurd things about me?”

“Suspiritos is—­Suspiritos.”

“Girls,” said Tafetan, with smiling countenance, “there goes the orange-vender.  Call him; I want to invite you to eat oranges.”

One of the girls called the orange-vender.

The conversation started by the Troyas displeased Pepe Rey not a little, dispelling the slight feeling of contentment which he had experienced at finding himself in such gay and communicative company.  He could not, however, refrain from smiling when he saw Don Juan Tafetan take down a guitar and begin to play upon it with all the grace and skill of his youthful years.

“I have been told that you sing beautifully,” said Rey to the girls.

“Let Don Juan Tafetan sing.”

“I don’t sing.”

“Nor I,” said the second of the girls, offering the engineer some pieces of the skin of the orange she had just peeled.

“Maria Juana, don’t leave your sewing,” said the eldest of the Troyas.  “It is late, and the cassock must be finished to-night.”

“There is to be no work to-day.  To the devil with the needles!” exclaimed Tafetan.

And he began to sing a song.

“The people are stopping in the street,” said the second of the girls, going out on the balcony.  “Don Juan Tafetan’s shouts can be heard in the Plaza—­Juana, Juana!”

“Well?”

“Suspiritos is walking down the street.”

“Throw a piece of orange-peel at her.”

Pepe Rey looked out also; he saw a lady walking down the street at whom the youngest of the Troyas, taking a skilful aim, threw a large piece of orange-peel, which struck her straight on the back of the head.  Then they hastily closed the blinds, and the three girls tried to stifle their laughter so that it might not be heard in the street.