In justice to Pompey, I must acknowledge that he was not less afflicted than myself when I informed him that I had been robbed of two thousand crowns. After all, however, his affliction may have been principally caused by the fear that I should hold him accountable for the loss of my property, whatever he might be able to urge in his own justification. So far from thinking of making him uneasy on this point, however, I tried all in my power to conceal the grief which consumed me. It appeared to me that a man who wished to assume the carriage of a gentleman ought not to shew much vexation at the loss of his clothes. Nevertheless, I was really half distracted, and Heaven knows I had reason enough, not being in possession of another coat except the one I had on, nor any linen but two shirts in my portmanteau.
In vain did I rack my brain with conjectures as to who could be the person who had taken the impression of my keys. I knew not whom to suspect. As for Sayavedra, I esteemed him too sincerely to entertain the slightest mistrust of him. It was not Pompey’s fault, however, if I was so long in discovering the thief; for as, in his relation of this affair, he described the person of the false Guzman, he gave me an exact portrait of Sayavedra; the figure, the hair, the voice, and the manners, were all his. So prejudiced was I in his favour, that I should have thought it quite a crime to have suspected him on account of the resemblance. I will say more: though I remembered that I had left him alone in my chamber when the carrier of Sienna came to look at my boxes, my respect for Sayavedra was proof against the recollection of even this circumstance.
While my host and I were making very useless reflections upon my loss, a servant came to tell us that supper was ready. We accordingly went down into the parlour, and sat down to table with gloomy faces, and without much inclination to eat. Pompey, perceiving that this vexatious affair had completely taken away my appetite, said to me, “Signor Guzman, your property is not so entirely lost as to render its recovery quite hopeless. I have not been idle; the Bargello[A], who is a friend of mine, has undertaken the pursuit of the thieves; and I assure you I place great reliance on his exertions. He will return this evening or to-morrow, and I trust he will be the bearer of good news.” “I hope so too,” answered I; “but, between ourselves, I don’t think that much confidence ought to be placed in persons of that kind: especially in an affair where restitution is to be made.”