Suddenly the two youngest seized his
hands, and whilst he struggled to release himself, the old woman
exclaimed: "You want tobacco, hijo - you come to the Gypsy house to
frighten the Callees and the strange Caloro out of their plako -
truly, hijo, we have none for you, and right sorry I am; we have,
however, plenty of the dust a su servicio."
Here, thrusting her hand into her pocket, she discharged a handful
of some kind of dust or snuff into the fellow's eyes; he stamped
and roared, but was for some time held fast by the two Callees; he
extricated himself, however, and attempted to unsheath a knife
which he bore at his girdle; but the two younger females flung
themselves upon him like furies, while the old woman increased his
disorder by thrusting her stick into his face; he was soon glad to
give up the contest, and retreated, leaving behind him his hat and
cloak, which the chabi gathered up and flung after him into the
street.
"This is a bad business," said I, "the fellow will of course bring
the rest of the justicia upon us, and we shall all be cast into the
estaripel."
"Ca!" said the black Callee, biting her thumb nail, "he has more
reason to fear us than we him, we could bring him to the filimicha;
we have, moreover, friends in this town, plenty, plenty."
"Yes," mumbled the grandmother, "the daughters of the baji have
friends, my London Caloro, friends among the Busnees, baributre,
baribu (plenty, plenty)."
Nothing farther of any account occurred in the Gypsy house; the
next day, Antonio and myself were again in the saddle, we travelled
at least thirteen leagues before we reached the Venta, where we
passed the night; we rose early in the morning, my guide informing
me that we had a long day's journey to make.
