In my heart I registered a vow: that, ere long, I should be back in the
Calle del Obispo.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was not slow in the fulfilment of that vow. The very next day, after
being released from morning parade, I repaired to the place in which the
fair apparition had made itself manifest.
I had no difficulty in recognising the house. It was one of the largest
in the street, easily distinguished by its frescoed front, windows with
"balcons," and jalousies inside. A grand gate entrance piercing the
centre told that carriages were kept. In short, everything betokened
the residence of a "rico."
I remembered the very window--so carefully had I made my mental
memoranda.
It looked different now. There was but the frame; the picture was no
longer in it.
I glanced to the other windows of the dwelling. They were all alike
empty. The blinds were drawn down. No one inside appeared to take any
interest in what was passing in the street.
I had my walk for nothing. A score of turns, up and down; three cigars
smoked while making them; some sober reflections that admonished me I
was doing a very ridiculous thing; and I strolled back to my quarters
with a humiliating sense of having made a fool of myself, and a resolve
not to repeat the performance.