"He has been in bed this hour," returned the voice.
"He must get up again," retorted Leon, and he was for tackling the
bell-pull once more.
"You will never make him hear," responded the voice. "The garden
is of great extent, the house is at the farther end, and both the
Maire and his housekeeper are deaf."
"Aha!" said Leon, pausing. "The Maire is deaf, is he? That
explains." And he thought of the evening's concert with a
momentary feeling of relief. "Ah!" he continued, "and so the Maire
is deaf, and the garden vast, and the house at the far end?"
"And you might ring all night," added the voice, "and be none the
better for it. You would only keep me awake."
"Thank you, neighbour," replied the singer. "You shall sleep."
And he made off again at his best pace for the Commissary's.
Elvira was still walking to and fro before the door.
"He has not come?" asked Leon.
"Not he," she replied.
"Good," returned Leon. "I am sure our man's inside. Let me see
the guitar-case. I shall lay this siege in form, Elvira; I am
angry; I am indignant; I am truculently inclined; but I thank my
Maker I have still a sense of fun. The unjust judge shall be
importuned in a serenade, Elvira. Set him up - and set him up."
He had the case opened by this time, struck a few chords, and fell
into an attitude which was irresistibly Spanish.
"Now," he continued, "feel your voice.
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