Ortiz, her companions, and myself, after having heard this tale, withdrew together from the hall, where we left Aurora with Elvira. There they lengthened out the remainder of the day in a mutual intercourse of confidence. They were not likely to be weary of each other, and on the following morning, when we took our leave, there was as much to do to part them, as if they had been two friends brought up in the closest habits of confidence and affection.

In due time we reached Salamanca without any impediment. There we immediately engaged a ready-furnished house, and Dame Ortiz, as it had been before agreed, assumed the name of Doña Kimena de Guzmán. She had played the part of a duenna too long not to be able to shift her character according to circumstances. One morning she went out with Aurora, a waiting-maid, and a manservant, and betook herself to a lodging-house, where we had been informed that Pacheco most commonly took up his abode. She asked if there was any lodging to be let there. The answer was in the affirmative, and they showed her into a room in very neat condition, which she hired. She paid down earnest to the landlady, telling her that it was for one of her nephews who was coming from Toledo to finish his studies at Salamanca, and might be expected on that very day.

The duenna and my mistress, after having made sure of this apartment, went back the way they came, and the lovely Aurora, without the loss of time, metamorphosed herself into a spruce young spark. She concealed her black ringlets under a braid of light-colored hair, the better to disguise herself;⁠ ⁠… manufactured her eyebrows to correspond, and dressed herself up in such a costume as to look for all the world as if her sex were of a piece with her appearance. Her deportment was free and easy; so that, with the exception of her face, which was somewhat more delicate than became the manly character, there was nothing to lead to a discovery of her masquerading. The waiting-woman who was to officiate as page, got into her paraphernalia at the same time, and we had no apprehension respecting her competency to perform her part. There was no danger of her beauty telling any tales; and, besides, she could put on as brazen-faced a swagger as the most impudent dog in town. After dinner, our two actresses, finding themselves in cue to make their first appearance on the stage, where the scene was laid in the ready-furnished lodging, took me along with them. We all three placed ourselves in the coach, and carried with us all the baggage we were likely to have occasion for.

The landlady, Bernarda Ramirez by name, welcomed us with a glut of civility, and led the way to our room, where we began to make our arrangements with her. We concluded a bargain for our board by the month, which she undertook should be suitable to our condition. Then we asked if she had her compliment of boarders. “I have none at all at present,” answered she. “Not that there would be any want of enough, if I was of the mind to take in all sorts of people; but young men of fashion are the thing for me. I expect one of that description this morning: he is coming hither from Madrid to complete his education. Don Lewis Pacheco! But you must have heard of him before now.”

“No, said Aurora, I have no acquaintance whatever with the gentleman; and since we are to be inmates together, you will do me a kindness by letting me a little into his character.”

“Please your honor,” replied the landlady, leering at this outside of a man, “his figure is as taking as your own; just the same sort of make, and about the same size. O! how well you will do together! By St. James, though I say it who should not say it, I shall have about me two of the prettiest young fellows in all Spain.”

“Well, but about Don Lewis!” for my mistress was in a fidget to ask the grand question. “Of course;⁠ ⁠… he is well with the ladies in your parts! Enough of⁠ ⁠… of love affairs⁠ ⁠… on his hands!”

“O! do not you be afraid of that,” rejoined the old lady; “it is a forward sprig of gallantry, take my word for it. He has but to show himself before the works, and the citadel sends to capitulate. Among the number of his conquests, he has got into the good graces of a lady, with as much youth and beauty as he will know what to do with. Her name is Isabella. Her father is an old doctor of laws. She is over head and ears in love with him; absolutely out of her wits!”

“Well, but do tell me now, my dear little woman,” interrupted Aurora, as if she was ready to burst, “is he out of his wits too?”

“He used to be very fond of her,” answered Bernarda Ramirez, “before he went last to Madrid, but whether he holds in the same mind still, I will not venture to say; because on these points he is not altogether to be trusted. He is apt to flirt, first with one woman, and then with another, just as all you young deceivers take pleasure in doing. You are all alike!”

The bonny widow had scarcely got to the end of her harangue, before we heard a noise in the court. On looking out at the window, behold! there appeared two young men dismounting from their steeds. Who should it be, but the identical Don Lewis Pacheco, just arrived from Madrid, with a servant behind him. The old lady rushed off to go and usher him in; while my mistress was putting herself in order, not without some palpitation of heart, to enact Don Felix to the best of her conceptions. Without waiting for any formalities, in marched Don Lewis to our apartment in his travelling dress. “I have just been informed,” said he, paying his respects to Aurora, “that a young nobleman of Toledo takes up his abode in this house. May I take the liberty of expressing my joy in the circumstance, and hoping that we may be better acquainted?”

During my mistress’s reply to this compliment, it seemed to me as if Pacheco did not know what to make of so smock-faced a young spark. Indeed he could not refrain from declaring a more than ordinary admiration of an air and figure so attractive. After abundance of discourse, with every demonstration of reciprocal good breeding, Don Lewis withdrew to the apartment provided for him.

While he was getting his boots off, and changing his dress and linen, a sort of a page, on the lookout after him to deliver a letter, met Aurora by chance on the staircase. Her he mistook for Don Lewis. Thinking he had found the right owner for this tender message, of which he was the Mercury, “Softly! my honored lord and master,” said he, “though I have not the honor of knowing Señor Pacheco, there can be no occasion for asking whether you are the man. It is impossible to be mistaken in the guess.”

“No, my friend,” answered my mistress with a most happy presence of mind, “assuredly you are not mistaken. You acquit yourself of your embassies to a marvel. I am Don Lewis Pacheco. You may retire! I will find an opportunity of sending an answer.” The page vanished, and Aurora, shutting herself up with her waiting-maid and me, opened the letter, and read to us as follows:⁠—“I have just heard of your being at Salamanca. With what joy did I receive the news! I thought I should have gone out of my senses. But do you love Isabella as well as ever? Lose no time in assuring her that you are still the same. In good truth, she will almost expire with pleasure when once she is assured of your constancy.”

“This is a mighty passionate epistle,” said Aurora. “The heart that indited it has been caught in a trap. This lady is a rival of no mean capacity. No pains must be spared to wean Don Lewis from her, and even to prevent any future interview. The undertaking is difficult, I acknowledge, and yet there seems no reason to despair of the result.”

My mistress, taking her own hint, fell into a fit of musing; from which, having recovered as soon as she fell into it, she added: “I will lay a wager they are at daggers drawn in less than twenty-four hours.”

It so happened that Pacheco, after a short repose in his apartment, came to look after us in ours, and entered once more into conversation with Aurora before supper. “My dapper little knight,” said he with a rakish air, “I fancy the poor devils of husbands and lovers will have no reason to hug themselves on your arrival at Salamanca. You will make their hearts ache for them. As for myself, I tremble for all my snug arrangements.”

“I tell you what!” answered my mistress with congenial spirit, “your fears are not without their foundation. Don Felix de Mendoza is rather formidable, so take care what you are about. This is not my first visit in this country; the ladies hereabouts, to my knowledge, are made of penetrable materials. About a month ago my way happened to lie through this city. I halted for eight days, and you are to know⁠ ⁠… but you must not mention it⁠ ⁠… that I set fire to the daughter of an old doctor of laws.”

It was evident enough that Don Lewis was disturbed by this declaration. “Might one without impropriety,” replied he, “just ask the lady’s name?”

“What do you mean by impropriety?” exclaimed the pretended Don Felix. “Why make any secret about such a matter as that? Do you think me more of a Joseph than other young noblemen of my standing? Have a better opinion of my spirit. Besides, the object, between ourselves, is unworthy of any great reserve, she is but a little mushroom of the lower ranks. A man of fashion never quarrels with his conscience about such obscure gallantries, and even thinks it an honor conferred on a tradesman’s wife or daughter when he leaves her without any. I shall, therefore, acquaint you in plain terms, that the name of the doctor’s daughter is Isabella.”

“And the doctor himself,” interrupted Pacheco impatiently⁠ ⁠… “he possibly may be Señor Murcia de la Llana?”

“Precisely so,” replied my mistress. “Here is a letter sent me just now. Read it, and then you will see how deeply your humble servant has dipped into her good graces.”

Don Lewis just cast his eye upon the note, and recognizing the handwriting, was struck dumb with astonishment and vexation.

“What is the matter?” cried Aurora, with an air of surprise, keeping up the spirit of her assumed character. “You change color! God forgive me, but you are a party concerned in this young lady. Ah! plague take my officious tongue for having opened my affairs to you with so much frankness.”

“I am very much obliged to you for it for my own part,” said Don Lewis, in a transport made up of spite and rage. “Traitress! Jilt! My dear Don Felix, how shall I ever requite you! You have restored me to my senses when they were just on the wing for an eternal flight. I was tickling myself into a fool’s paradise of credulous love. But love is too cold a term to express my extravagances. I fancied myself adored by Isabella. The creature had wormed herself into my heart by feigning to give me her own. But now I know her clearly for a coquette, and as such despise her as she deserves.”

“Your feelings on the occasion do you infinite credit,” said Aurora, testifying a friendly sympathy in his resentment. “A plodding pettifogger’s worthless brood might have gorged to surfeit on the love of a young nobleman so captivating as yourself. Her fickleness is inexcusable. So far from taking her sacrifice of you in good part, it is my determination to punish her by the keenest contempt.”

“As for me, rejoined Pacheco, I shall never set eyes on her again; and if that is not revenge, the devil is in it.”

“You are in the right,” exclaimed our masquerading Mendoza. “At the same time, that she may fully understand how ineffably we both disdain her, I vote for sitting down, each of us, and writing her a sarcastic farewell. They shall be enclosed in one cover, and serve as an answer to her own letter. But do not let us proceed to this extremity till you have examined your heart; it may be you will repent hereafter of having broken off with Isabella.”

“No, no,” interrupted Don Lewis, “I am not such a fool as that comes to; let it be a bargain, and we will mortify the ungrateful wretch as you propose.”

I immediately sent for pen, ink, and paper, when they sat themselves down at opposite corners of the table, and drew up a most tender bill of indictment against Doctor Murcia de la Llana’s daughter. Pacheco, in particular, was at a loss for language forcible enough to convey his sentiments in all their acrimony; away went exordium after exordium, to the tearing and maiming of five or six fair sheets, before the words looked crooked enough to please his jealous eyes. At length, however, he produced an epistle which came up with his most tragical conceptions. It ran thus: “Self-knowledge is a leading branch of wisdom, my little philosopher. As a candidate for a professor’s chair, lay aside the vanity of fancying yourself amiable. It requires merit of a far different compass to fix my affections. You have not enough of the woman about you to afford me even a temporary amusement. Yet do not despair; you have a sphere of your own; the beggarly servitors in our university have a keen appetite, but no very distinguishing palate.” So much for this elegant epistle!

When Aurora had finished hers, which rang the changes on similar topics, she sealed them, wrapped them up together, and giving me the packet: “There, Gil Blas,” said she, “take care that comes to Isabella’s hands this very evening. You comprehend me!” added she, with a glance from the corner of her eye, which admitted of no doubtful construction.

“Yes, my lord, answered I, your commands shall be executed to a tittle.”

I lost no time in taking my departure; no sooner in the street than I said to myself, “So ho! Master Gil Blas, your part then is that of the intriguing footman in this comedy. Well! so be it, my friend! show that you have wit and sense enough to top it over the favorite actor of the day. Señor Don Felix thinks a wink as good as a nod. A high compliment to the quickness of your apprehension! Is he then in an error? No! His hint is as clear as daylight. Don Lewis’s letter is to drop its companion by the way. A lucid exposition of a dark hieroglyphic, enough to shame the dullness of the commentators. The sacredness of a seal could never stand against this bright discovery.” Out came the single letter of Pacheco, and away went I to hunt after Doctor Murcia’s abode. At the very threshold, whom should I meet but the little page who had been at our lodging. “Comrade,” said I, “do not you happen to live with the great lawyer’s daughter?” His answer was in the affirmative. “I see by your countenance,” resumed I, “that you know the ways of the world. May I beg the favor of you to slip this little memorandum into your mistress’s hand?”

The little page asked me on whose behalf I was a messenger. The name of Don Lewis Pacheco had no sooner escaped my lips, than he told me, “Since that is the case, follow me; I have orders to show you up; Isabella wants to confer with you.”

I was introduced at once into a private apartment, where it was not long before the lady herself made her appearance. The beauty of her face was inexpressibly striking; I do not recollect to have seen more lovely features. Her manner was somewhat mincing and infantine, and yet for all that it had been thirty good years at least since she had mewled and puked in her nurse’s arms.

“My friend,” said she with an encouraging smile, “are you on Don Lewis Pacheco’s establishment?” I told her I had been in office for these three weeks. With this I fired off my paper popgun against her peace. She read it over two or three times, but if she had rubbed her eyes till doomsday she would have seen no clearer. In point of fact, nothing could be more unexpected than so cavalier an answer. Up went her eyes towards the heavens, appealing to their rival luminaries. The ivory1 fences of her pretty mouth committed alternate trespass on her soft and suffering lips, and her whole physiognomy bore witness to the pangs of her distressed and disappointed heart. Then coming to herself a little, and recovering her speech, “My friend,” said she, “has Don Lewis taken leave of his senses? Tell me, if you can, his motive for so heroic an epistle. If he is tired of me, well and good, but he might have taken his leave like a gentleman.”

“Madam,” said I, “my master most assuredly has not acted as I should have acted in his place. But he has in some sort been compelled to do as he has done. If you would give me your word to keep the secret, I could unravel the whole mystery.”

“You have it at once,” interrupted she with eagerness; “depend on it you shall be brought into no scrape by me, therefore explain yourself without reserve.”

“Well then!” replied I, “the fact is, without paraphrase, circumlocution, loss of time, or perplexity of understanding, as I shall distinctly state in two short words: Not half a minute after the receipt of your letter, there came into our house a lady, under a veil as impenetrable as her purpose was dark. She enquired for Señor Pacheco, and talked with him in private for some time. At the close of the conversation, I overheard her saying, ‘You swear to me never to see her more; but we must not stop there: to set my heart completely at rest, you must instantly write her a farewell letter of my dictating. You know my terms.’ Don Lewis did as she desired; then, giving the result into my custody, ‘Acquaint yourself,’ said he, ‘where Doctor Murcia de la Llana lives, and contrive to administer this love potion to his daughter Isabella.’ ”

“You see plainly, madam,” pursued I, “that this uncivil epistle is a rival’s handiwork, and that, consequently, my master is not so much to blame as he appears.”

“O Heaven!” exclaimed she, “he is more so than I was aware of. His words might have been the error of his hand, but his infidelity is the offence of his heart. Faithless man! Now he is held by other ties!⁠ ⁠… But,” added she, assuming an air of disdain, “let him devote himself unconstrained to his new passion; I shall never cross him. Tell him, however, that he need not have insulted me. I should have left the course open to my rival, without his warning me from the field: for so fickle a lover has not soul enough about him to pay for the degradation of soliciting his return.” With this sentiment she gave me my dismissal, and retired in a whirlwind of passion against Don Lewis.

My exit was conducted entirely to my own satisfaction, for I conceived that with due cultivation of my talent I might in time become a consummate hypocrite and most successful cheat. I returned home on the strength of it, where I found my worthy master Mendoza and Pacheco supping together, and rattling away as if they had been playfellows from their cradles. Aurora saw at once, by my self-sufficient air, that her commission had not been neglected in my hands. “Here you are again then, Gil Blas,” said she; “give us an account of your embassy.”

Wit and invention was all I had to trust to, so I told them I had delivered the packet into Isabella’s own hands; who, after having glanced over the contents of the two letters, so far from seeming disconcerted, burst into a fit of laughter, as if she had been mad, and said, “Upon my word, our young men of fashion write in a pretty style. It must be owned they are much more entertaining than scribes of plebeian rank.”

“It was a very good way of getting out of the scrape,” exclaimed my mistress; “she must be an arrant coquette.”

“For my part,” said Don Lewis, “I cannot trace a feature of Isabella in this conduct. Her character must have been completely metamorphosed in my absence.”

“She struck me, too, in a very different light,” replied Aurora. “It must be allowed some women can assume all modes and fashions at will. I was once in love with one of that description, and a fine dance she led me. Gil Blas, can you tell the whole story? She had an air of propriety about her which might have imposed upon a whole synod of old maids.”

“It is true,” said I, putting in my oar; “it was a face to play the devil with a sworn bachelor: I could scarcely have been proof against it myself.”

The personated Mendoza and Pacheco shouted with laughter at my manner of expressing myself; the one for the false witness I bore against a culprit of my own creation; the other laughed simply at the phrase in which my anathema was couched. We went on talking about the versatility of women; and the verdict, after hearing the evidence, all on one side, was given against Isabella. A convicted coquette! and sentence passed on her accordingly. Don Lewis made a fresh vow never to see her more, and Don Felix, after his example, swore to hold her in eternal abhorrence. By dint of these mutual protestations, a sort of friendship was established on the spur of the occasion, and they promised on both sides to keep no secrets from each other. The time after supper passed in ingratiating intercourse, and the time seemed short till they retired to their separate apartments. I followed Aurora to hers, where I gave her a faithful account of my conversation with the doctor’s daughter, not forgetting the most trivial circumstance. She had much ado to help kissing me for joy.

“My dear Gil Blas,” said she, “I am delighted with your spirit. When one has the misfortune to be engaged in a passion not to be gratified but by stratagems, what an advantage is it to secure on the right side a lad of so enterprising a genius as yourself. Courage, my friend! we have thrown a rival into the background, whose presence in the scene might have marred our comedy. So far, all is well. But as lovers are subject to strange vagaries, it seems to me that we must make short work of it, and bring Aurora de Guzmán on the stage tomorrow.”

“The idea met with my entire approbation; so, leaving Señor Don Felix with his page, I withdrew to bed in an adjoining closet.”