At eight in the morning a lieutenant-colonel of cavalry entered the house of Dona Perfecta Polentinos with his billet.  He was received by the servants, by order of its mistress, who, being at the time in a deplorable state of mind, did not wish to go down stairs to meet the soldier, and by them he was shown to the only room in the house which, it seemed, was disposable, the room occupied by Pepe Rey.

“Let them settle themselves as best they can,” said Dona Perfecta, with an expression of gall and vinegar.  “And if they have not room enough, let them go into the street.”

Was it her intention to annoy in this way her detested nephew, or was there really no other unoccupied room in the house?  This we do not know, nor do the chronicles from which this true history is taken say a word on this important point.  What we know positively is that, far from displeasing the two guests to be thus boxed up together, it gave them great pleasure, as they happened to be old friends.  They were greatly surprised and delighted when they met, and they were never tired of asking each other questions and uttering exclamations, dwelling on the strange chance that had brought them together in such a place and on such an occasion.

“Pinzon—­you here!  Why, what is this?  I had no suspicion that you were in this neighborhood.”

“I heard that you were in this part of the country, Pepe; but I had no idea, either, that I should meet you in this horrible, this barbarous Orbajosa.”

“But what a fortunate chance!  For this chance is most fortunate—­providential.  Pinzon, between us both we are going to do a great thing in this wretched town.”

“And we shall have time enough to consult about it,” answered the other, seating himself on the bed in which the engineer was lying, “for it appears that we are both to occupy this room.  What the devil sort of a house is this?”

“Why, man, it is my aunt’s.  Speak with more respect about it.  Have you not met my aunt?  But I am going to get up.”

“I am very glad of it, for then I can lie down and rest; and badly I need it.  What a road, friend Pepe, what a road, and what a town!”

“Tell me, have you come to set fire to Orbajosa?”

“Fire!”

“I ask you because, in that case, I might help you.”

“What a town!  But what a town!” exclaimed the soldier, removing his shako, and laying aside sword and shoulder-belt, travelling case and cloak.  “This is the second time they have sent us here.  I swear to you that the third time I will ask my discharge.”

“Don’t talk ill of these good people!  But you have come in the nick of time.  It seems as if Providence has sent you to my aid, Pinzon.  I have a terrible project on hand, an adventure,—­a plot, if you wish to call it so, my friend,—­and it would have been difficult for me to carry it through without you.  A moment ago I was in despair, wondering how I should manage, and saying to myself anxiously, ’If I only had a friend here, a good friend!’”