"What is that I hear?" said one of the fellows, who was distinguished by an immense pair of moustaches."What is that I hear? is it in Calo that you are speaking before me, and I a Chalan and national? Accursed gypsy, how dare you enter this posada and speak before me in that speech? Is it not forbidden by the law of the land in which we are, even as it is forbidden for a gypsy to enter the mercado? I tell you what, friend, if I hear another word of Calo come from your mouth, I will cudgel your bones and send you flying over the house-tops with a kick of my foot.""You would do right," said his companion; "the insolence of these gypsies is no longer to be borne.When I am at Merida or Badajoz I go to the mercado, and there in a corner stand the accursed gypsies jabbering to each other in a speech which Iunderstand not.`Gypsy gentleman,' say I to one of them, `what will you have for that donkey?' `I will have ten dollars for it, Caballero nacional,' says the gypsy; `it is the best donkey in all Spain.' `I should like to see its paces,' say I.`That you shall, most valorous!' says the gypsy, and jumping upon its back, he puts it to its paces, first of all whispering something into its ears in Calo, and truly the paces of the donkey are most wonderful, such as I have never seen before.
`I think it will just suit me,' and after looking at it awhile, I take out the money and pay for it.`I shall go to my house,'
says the gypsy; and off he runs.`I shall go to my village,'
say I, and I mount the donkey.`Vamonos,' say I, but the donkey won't move.I give him a switch, but I don't get on the better for that.`How is this?' say I, and I fall to spurring him.What happens then, brother? The wizard no sooner feels the prick than he bucks down, and flings me over his head into the mire.I get up and look about me; there stands the donkey staring at me, and there stand the whole gypsy canaille squinting at me with their filmy eyes.`Where is the scamp who has sold me this piece of furniture?' I shout.`He is gone to Granada, Valorous,' says one.`He is gone to see his kindred among the Moors,' says another.`I just saw him running over the field, in the direction of -, with the devil close behind him,' says a third.In a word, I am tricked.I wish to dispose of the donkey; no one, however, will buy him; he is a Calo donkey, and every person avoids him.At last the gypsies offer thirty rials for him; and after much chaffering I am glad to get rid of him at two dollars.It is all a trick, however;he returns to his master, and the brotherhood share the spoil amongst them.All which villainy would be prevented, in my opinion, were the Calo language not spoken; for what but the word of Calo could have induced the donkey to behave in such an unaccountable manner?"Both seemed perfectly satisfied with the justness of this conclusion, and continued smoking till their cigars were burnt to stumps, when they arose, twitched their whiskers, looked at us with fierce disdain, and dashing the tobacco-ends to the ground, strode out of the apartment.
"Those people seem no friends to the gypsies," said I to Antonio, when the two bullies had departed, "nor to the Calo language either.""May evil glanders seize their nostrils," said Antonio;"they have been jonjabadoed by our people.However, brother, you did wrong to speak to me in Calo, in a posada like this; it is a forbidden language; for, as I have often told you, the king has destroyed the law of the Cales.Let us away, brother, or those juntunes (SNEAKING SCOUNDRELS) may set the justicia upon us."Towards evening we drew near to a large town or village.
"That is Merida," said Antonio, "formerly, as the Busne say, a mighty city of the Corahai.We shall stay here to-night, and perhaps for a day or two, for I have some business of Egypt to transact in this place.Now, brother, step aside with the horse, and wait for me beneath yonder wall.I must go before and see in what condition matters stand."I dismounted from the horse, and sat down on a stone beneath the ruined wall to which Antonio had motioned me; the sun went down, and the air was exceedingly keen; I drew close around me an old tattered gypsy cloak with which my companion had provided me, and being somewhat fatigued, fell into a doze which lasted for nearly an hour.
"Is your worship the London Caloro?" said a strange voice close beside me.
I started and beheld the face of a woman peering under my hat.Notwithstanding the dusk, I could see that the features were hideously ugly and almost black; they belonged, in fact, to a gypsy crone, at least seventy years of age, leaning upon a staff.
"Is your worship the London Caloro?" repeated she.
"I am he whom you seek," said I; "where is Antonio?""CURELANDO, CURELANDO, BARIBUSTRES CURELOS TERELA," *said the crone: "come with me, Caloro of my garlochin, come with me to my little ker, he will be there anon."* Doing business, doing business - he has much business to do.
I followed the crone, who led the way into the town, which was ruinous and seemingly half deserted; we went up the street, from which she turned into a narrow and dark lane, and presently opened the gate of a large dilapidated house; "Come in," said she.
"And the gras?" I demanded.
