"I Will Send Him To You To-Morrow," Said Borrego, "You Will Best
Learn From His Own Mouth Who And What He Is."
The next day, as I had just sat down to my "sopa," my hostess
informed me that a man wished to speak to me.
"Admit him," said I,
and he almost instantly made his appearance. He was dressed
respectably in the French fashion, and had rather a juvenile look,
though I subsequently learned that he was considerably above forty.
He was somewhat above the middle stature, and might have been
called well made, had it not been for his meagreness, which was
rather remarkable. His arms were long and bony, and his whole form
conveyed an idea of great activity united with no slight degree of
strength: his hair was wiry, but of jetty blackness; his forehead
low; his eyes small and grey, expressive of much subtlety and no
less malice, strangely relieved by a strong dash of humour; the
nose was handsome, but the mouth was immensely wide, and his under
jaw projected considerably. A more singular physiognomy I had
never seen, and I continued staring at him for some time in
silence. "Who are you?" I at last demanded.
"Domestic in search of a master," answered the man in good French,
but in a strange accent. "I come recommended to you, my Lor, by
Monsieur B."
Myself. - Of what nation may you be? Are you French or Spanish?
Man. - God forbid that I should be either, mi Lor, j'ai l'honneur
d'etre de la nation Grecque, my name is Antonio Buchini, native of
Pera the Belle near to Constantinople.
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