He Got Up With An Oath, And
Instantly Commenced Thundering At The Door With The Stock Of His
Musket.
"Who is it?" at length demanded a soft female voice in
Gallegan.
"The valiente of Finisterra," replied Antonio; whereupon
the gate was unlocked, and we beheld before us a very pretty female
with a candle in her hand. "What brings you here so late,
Antonio?" she inquired. "I bring two prisoners, mi pulida,"
replied Antonio. "Ave Maria!" she exclaimed, "I hope they will do
no harm." "I will answer for one," replied the old man; "but, as
for the other, he is a nuveiro, and has sunk more ships than all
his brethren in Galicia. But be not afraid, my beauty," he
continued, as the female made the sign of the cross: "first lock
the gate, and then show me the way to the alcalde. I have much to
tell him." The gate was locked, and bidding us stay below in the
courtyard, Antonio followed the young woman up a stone stair,
whilst we remained in darkness below.
After the lapse of about a quarter of an hour we again saw the
candle gleam upon the staircase, and the young female appeared.
Coming up to me, she advanced the candle to my features, on which
she gazed very intently. After a long scrutiny she went to my
guide, and having surveyed him still more fixedly, she turned to
me, and said, in her best Spanish, "Senhor Cavalier, I congratulate
you on your servant. He is the best-looking mozo in all Galicia.
Vaya! if he had but a coat to his back, and did not go barefoot, I
would accept him at once as a novio; but I have unfortunately made
a vow never to marry a poor man, but only one who has got a heavy
purse and can buy me fine clothes. So you are a Carlist, I
suppose? Vaya! I do not like you the worse for that. But, being
so, how went you to Finisterra, where they are all Christinos and
negros? Why did you not go to my village? None would have meddled
with you there. Those of my village are of a different stamp to
the drunkards of Finisterra. Those of my village never interfere
with honest people. Vaya! how I hate that drunkard of Finisterra
who brought you, he is so old and ugly; were it not for the love
which I bear to the Senhor Alcalde, I would at once unlock the gate
and bid you go forth, you and your servant, the buen mozo."
Antonio now descended. "Follow me," said he; "his worship the
alcalde will be ready to receive you in a moment." Sebastian and
myself followed him upstairs to a room where, seated behind a
table, we beheld a young man of low stature but handsome features
and very fashionably dressed. He appeared to be inditing a letter,
which, when he had concluded, he delivered to a secretary to be
transcribed.
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