Not a word says our Don Sanchez, but feigning still to believe him a man
of quality, he returns the other Don's salutation with all the ceremony
possible. Then Don Lopez, smiling from ear to ear, begs us (as I learnt
afterwards) to pardon him for keeping us waiting, which had not
happened, he assures us, if we had not suffered him to oversleep
himself. He then informs us that we are now upon his domain, and begs us
to accept such hospitality as his Castillo will furnish, in return for
our entertainment of last night. To this Don Sanchez replies with a
thousand thanks that we are anxious to reach Ravellos before nightfall,
and that, therefore, we will be going at once if it is all the same to
him. With more bowing and scraping Don Lopez amiably but firmly declines
to accept any refusal of his offer or to talk of business before his
debt of gratitude is paid. With that he gives a sign to our guides, who
at once lead off our mules at a brisk trot, leaving us to follow on foot
with Don Lopez and his companion, whom he introduces as Don Ruiz del
Puerto,--as arrant a cut-throat rascal to look at as ever I clapt eyes
on.


So we with very dismal forebodings trudge on, having no other course to
take, Don Sanchez, to make the best of it, warranting that no harm shall
come to us while we are under the hospitable protection of a Spaniard,
but to no great effect--our faith being already shaken in his valuation
of Spaniards.

Quitting the tableland, ten minutes of leaping and scrambling brought us
to a collection of miserable huts built all higgledy-piggledy along the
edge of a torrent, overtopped by a square building of more consequence,
built of grey stone and roofed with slate shingles, but with nothing but