her cloak on her back, and led her to the door, which she fastened with a wooden bar. As soon as we were alone she began to laugh and caper like a lunatic, singing out, 'You are my rom, I'm your romi.'[1]
"There I stood in the middle of the room, laden with all her purchases, and not knowing where I was to put them down. She tumbled them all onto the floor, and threw her arms round my neck, saying:
"'I pay my debts, I pay my debts! That's the law of the Cales.'[2]
"Ah, sir, that day! that day! When I think of it I forget what to-morrow must bring me!"
For a moment the bandit held his peace, then, when he had relighted his cigar, he began afresh.
"We spent the whole day together, eating, drinking, and so forth. When she had stuffed herself with sugar-plums, like any child of six years old, she thrust them by handfuls into the old woman's water-jar. 'That'll make sherbet for her,' she said. She smashed the yemas by throwing them against the walls. 'They'll keep the flies from bothering us,' There was no
