Antonio. - And who sent you on this errand?
Myself. - You would scarcely understand me were I to inform you.
Know, however, that there are many in foreign lands who lament the
darkness which envelops Spain, and the scenes of cruelty, robbery,
and murder which deform it.
Antonio. - Are they Calore or Busne?
Myself. - What matters it? Both Calore and Busne are sons of the
same God.
Antonio. - You lie, brother, they are not of one father nor of one
Errate. You speak of robbery, cruelty, and murder. There are too
many Busne, brother; if there were no Busne there would be neither
robbery nor murder. The Calore neither rob nor murder each other,
the Busno do; nor are they cruel to their animals, their law
forbids them. When I was a child I was beating a burra, but my
father stopped my hand, and chided me. "Hurt not the animal," said
he; "for within it is the soul of your own sister!"
Myself. - And do you believe in this wild doctrine, O Antonio?
Antonio. - Sometimes I do, sometimes I do not. There are some who
believe in nothing; not even that they live! Long since, I knew an
old Caloro, he was old, very old, upwards of a hundred years, - and
I once heard him say, that all we thought we saw was a lie; that
there was no world, no men nor women, no horses nor mules, no olive
trees. But whither are we straying? I asked what induced you to
come to this country - you tell me the glory of God and Tebleque.
Disparate! tell that to the Busne. You have good reasons for
coming, no doubt, else you would not be here. Some say you are a
spy of the Londone, perhaps you are; I care not. Rise, brother,
and tell me whether any one is coming down the pass."
"I see a distant object," I replied; "like a speck on the side of
the hill."
The Gypsy started up, and we both fixed our eyes on the object:
the distance was so great that it was at first with difficulty that
we could distinguish whether it moved or not. A quarter of an
hour, however, dispelled all doubts, for within this time it had
nearly reached the bottom of the hill, and we could descry a figure
seated on an animal of some kind.
"It is a woman," said I, at length, "mounted on a grey donkey."
"Then it is my messenger," said Antonio, "for it can be no other."
The woman and the donkey were now upon the plain, and for some time
were concealed from us by the copse and brushwood which intervened.
They were not long, however, in making their appearance at the
distance of about a hundred yards. The donkey was a beautiful
creature of a silver grey, and came frisking along, swinging her
tail, and moving her feet so quick that they scarcely seemed to
touch the ground.
