his speech, when he resumed it—which he did in mild extenuation—afforded the strongest possible contrast to his former boastfulness.
"Had he said anything disrespectful? Queen of Heaven! Nothing was further from his intentions than to say anything disrespectful. He believed he had said nothing which could possibly be construed into anything disrespectful. Especially of the good and dear Cavallero and his lady who employed him; he would not say anything disrespectful for the world! Again he hoped that he had not said anything disrespectful?"
He now proceeded, in his humility, to poke his face close to the countenance of every individual round him, and inquire from each in turn, if he had given utterance to anything disrespectful? And each assured him with the utmost promptitude (for they were drinking his aguardiente at the moment) that he had done nothing of the kind.
All but one man—a little fellow on short allowance of drapery—upon whom drink was beginning to have the same effect as it had previously had on the postilion. This individual stoutly contended that the other had been disrespectful,—very,—and a violent
