Felipe till now thought it a luxury; now he tosses on it, and says it is throwing him all the time.”
Alessandro smiled, in spite of his reverence for the Señora. “I once lay down on one myself, Señora,” he said, “and that was what I said to my father. It was like a wild horse under me, making himself ready to buck. I thought perhaps the invention was of the saints, that men should not sleep too long.”
“There is a pile of raw-hides,” said Juan, “well cured, but not too stiff; Juan Jose was to have sent them off to-day to be sold; one of those will be just right. It must not be too dry.”
“The fresher the better,” said Alessandro, “so it have no dampness. Shall I make the bed, Señora?” he asked, “and will the Señora permit that I make it on the veranda? I was just asking Juan Can if he thought I might be so bold as to ask you to let me bring Señor Felipe into the outer air. With us, it is thought death to be shut up in walls, as he has been so long. Not till we are sure to die, do we go into the dark like that.”
The Señora hesitated. She did not share Alessandro's prejudice in favor of fresh air.
“Night and day both?” she said. “Surely it is not well to sleep out in the night?”
“That is the best of all, Señora,” replied Alessandro, earnestly. “I beg the Señora to try it. If Señor Felipe have not mended greatly after the first night he had so slept, then Alessandro will be a liar.”
“No, only mistaken,” said the Señora, gently. She felt herself greatly drawn to this young man by his devotion, as she thought, of Felipe. “When I die and leave Felipe here,” she had more than once said to herself, “it would be a great good to him to have such a servant as this on the place.”
“Very well, Alessandro,” she replied; “make the bed, and we will try it at once.”
