CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
THE PLAY OF EYES.
The ceremony of laying the foundation-stone had been brief and it wasyet only an early hour of the afternoon when the procession passed backalong the Calle de Plateros. The scavengers were still at work, and itis scarcely necessary to say that two of their number were earnestly onthe lookout for a certain carriage. Sorry plight as they were in,neither felt ashamed or reluctant to come again under those eyes, afterthe expression they had observed in them. Rivas had hopes that inanother exchange of glances with the Condesa, he might see somethingstill further to instruct him; while Kearney, not so confident about hisinterpretation of those given to himself, longed to have a secondreading of them.
Nor was he disappointed. The procession returned sooner than theyexpected, the looked-for carriage still holding its place in the line;the ladies in it, but now no officer of Hussars, nor any other, ridingalongside. Santander, an aide-de-camp as known, had likely been orderedoff on some official errand, and likely, too, his chief did not relishseeing him so near that particular equipage. Whatever the cause, hisabsence gave gratification to the two men noting it. With lessconstraint glances might now be exchanged--even gestures.
And both were. The look Kearney had given to him was accompanied by anod of recognition; slight and timid, for it could not well be otherwiseunder the circumstances. But the eyes spoke more eloquently, tellinghim of respect undiminished, faith that had never faltered, love strongand true as ever. If he read pity in them too, it was not such as hewould now spurn.
To Rivas were accorded signs of a very different sort. He had them notonly from eyes, but the movement of a fan and fingers. They seemedsatisfactory to him; for as the carriage passed out of sight, he turnedto the other and said in a cheerful whisper:
"Keep up heart, _camarado_! I perceive you're not unknown to a friendof my friend. You heard the brute of a gaol-governor taunt me about acertain Condesa?"
"I did."
"Well; that's the lady, alongside her who's just been making eyes atyou. An old acquaintance of yours, I see; and I think I could say whereit was commenced. Never mind about that now. Enough for you to knowthat if friendship can get us out of this fix, with gold to back it, wemay yet have a chance of giving leg-bail to the turnkeys of theAcordada."
Their dialogue was terminated by Dominguez, who, temporarily absent fora swill at one of the neighbouring _pulquerias_, now returned to thesuperintendence of his charge, and roughly commanded them to resumetheir work.
For nearly another hour the work went on, though not so regularly asbefore. The stream of returning sightseers still lined the foot-walks,many of them showing by their behaviour they had been paying a visit to_pulquerias_ too, and more than once. Some stopped to fraternise withthe soldiers, and would have done likewise with the _forzados_, ifpermitted. They were not hindered, however, from holding converse withthe former, and extending hospitality to them in the shape of treats;sentry after sentry stealing away from his post after the proffered andcoveted toothful. Nor was Dominguez an exception, he too every now andthen repeating his visit to the dram-shop.
All this gave the scavengers licence of speech, with some liberty ofaction, or rather rest from their disagreeable task. And in theinterval, while they were thus idling, the young Irishman noticed thatthe eyes of his chain companion were kept continuously on thefoot-walks, now on one side now the other, his face towards the PlazaGrande--as though he expected to see some one coming that way. Kearneyhimself was regarding the people who came along--but only fromcuriosity--when his attention was more particularly drawn to one who hadcome to a stop on the sidewalk nearly opposite. This was a girl ofrather diminutive stature, dressed in the ordinary fashion of the commonpeople, short-skirted petticoat, sleeveless _camisa_, arms, ankles, andfeet bare; but the head, breast, and shoulders all under one covering--the _reboso_. Even her face was hidden by this, for she was wearing it"tapado," one eye only visible, through a little loop in the foldedscarf, which was kept open by the hand that held it. The girl had drawnup in front of a jeweller's window, as though to feast that eye on thepretty things therein displayed. And thus Kearney would not havenoticed her, any more than the others, many of them in like garb passingto and fro. But, just as his eye happened to light upon her, he sawthat hers--literally a single one--was fixed upon him, regarding him ina way altogether different from that which might be expected on the partof a chance stranger. Her attitude, too, was odd. Though facing nearlysquare to the shop window, and pretending to look into it, her head wasslightly turned, and the eye surely on him.
At first he was puzzled to make out what it could mean, and why the girlshould be taking such an interest in him. Possibly, had she beenwearing shoes and stockings, he might have come easier to thecomprehension of it. But a little brown-skinned, barefooted _muchacha_,in a petticoat of common stuff, and cheap scarf over her shoulders, hecould think of no reason why she should have aught to do with him.
Only for a few seconds, however, was he thus in the dark. Then allbecame clear, the _eclaircissement_ giving him a start, and sending theblood in quick rush through his veins--pleasant withal. For the girl,seeing she had caught his attention, relaxed her clasp upon the scarf,partially exposing her face, and the other eye.
Kearney needed not seeing the whole of it for recognition now. Wellremembered he those features--pretty in spite of the dark skin--he hadoften seen wreathed with pleasant smiles, as their owner used to openthe door for him in the Casa de Calvo.