CHAPTER XXII.
Ulrich again stood before the Alcazar, and recalled the hour when, a poor lad, just escaped from prison, he had been harshly rebuffed by the same porter, who now humbly saluted the young gentleman attired in costly velvet.
And yet how gladly he would have crossed this threshold poor as in those days, but free and with a soul full of enthusiasm and hope; how joyfully he would have effaced from his life the years that lay between that time and the present.
He dreaded meeting the Coellos; nothing but honor urged him to present himself to them.
Yes--and if the old man rejected him ?--so much the better! The old cheerful confusion reigned in the studio.

He had a long time to wait there, and then heard through several doors Senora Petra's scolding voice and her husband's angry replies.
At last Coello came to him and after greeting him, first formally, then cordially, and enquiring about his health and experiences, he shrugged his shoulders, saying: "My wife does not wish you to see Isabella again before the trial.
You must show what you can do, of course; but I....

you look well and apparently have collected reales.

Or is it true," and he moved his hand as if shaking a dice-box.

"He who wins is a good fellow, but we want no more to do with such people here! You find me the same as of old, and you have returned at the right time, that is something.