The
corregidor himself waited upon us, and a great rush-bottomed arm-chair
was ostentatiously bolstered into our room by our landlady, for the
accommodation of that important personage. The commander of the patrol
took supper with us- a lively, talking, laughing Andaluz, who had made
a campaign in South America, and recounted his exploits in love and
war with much pomp of phrase, vehemence of gesticulation, and
mysterious rolling of the eye. He told us that he had a list of all
the robbers in the country, and meant to ferret out every mother's son
of them; he offered us at the same time some of his soldiers as an
escort. "One is enough to protect you, senores; the robbers know me,
and know my men; the sight of one is enough to spread terror through a
whole sierra." We thanked him for his offer, but assured him, in his
own strain, that with the protection of our redoubtable squire,
Sancho, we were not afraid of all the ladrones of Andalusia.
While we were supping with our Drawcansir friend, we heard the notes
of a guitar, and the click of castanets, and presently a chorus of
voices singing a popular air. In fact mine host had gathered
together the amateur singers and musicians, and the rustic belles of
the neighborhood, and, on going forth, the courtyard or patio of the
inn presented a scene of true Spanish festivity. We took our seats
with mine host and hostess and the commander of the patrol, under an
archway opening into the court; the guitar passed from hand to hand,
but a jovial shoemaker was the Orpheus of the place.
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