After Isabel had turned up the knave of hearts eight times running, and she had seen that Wilhelm was in bed, reading the newspaper, she gave Anne and Don Pablo a few orders, dressed hurriedly, and went off, after many kisses and embraces, and with the promise of not staying long.
Wilhelm read his paper to the end, blew out the light, and turned himself to the wall.

But sleep forsook him, and he stared with wide-open eyes into the darkness.

Suddenly an odd suggestion flashed across his mind--was rejected--returned again obstinately, grew stronger, and finally was so imperative that Wilhelm sat up in bed excitedly and relit the candles.

Don Pablo had gone home, Anne had accompanied Pilar, Isabel was in the back premises, engaged upon the Val de Penas, two fresh casks of which had lately arrived, and Auguste was probably in his bedroom asleep.

He was as good as alone in the house.