A little more serenading, and it was clear
he would be better acquainted with the apoplexy.
I scorn to reproduce his language; he touched upon too many serious
topics by the way for a quiet story-teller. Although he was known
for a man who was prompt with his tongue, and had a power of strong
expression at command, he excelled himself so remarkably this night
that one maiden lady, who had got out of bed like the rest to hear
the serenade, was obliged to shut her window at the second clause.
Even what she had heard disquieted her conscience; and next day she
said she scarcely reckoned as a maiden lady any longer.
Leon tried to explain his predicament, but he received nothing but
threats of arrest by way of answer.
"If I come down to you!" cried the Commissary.
"Aye," said Leon, "do!"
"I will not!" cried the Commissary.
"You dare not!" answered Leon.
At that the Commissary closed his window.
"All is over," said the singer. "The serenade was perhaps ill-
judged. These boors have no sense of humour."
"Let us get away from here," said Elvira, with a shiver. "All
these people looking - it is so rude and so brutal." And then
giving way once more to passion - "Brutes!" she cried aloud to the
candle-lit spectators - "brutes! brutes! brutes!"
"Sauve qui peut," said Leon. "You have done it now!"
And taking the guitar in one hand and the case in the other, he led
the way with something too precipitate to be merely called
precipitation from the scene of this absurd adventure.
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