Myself.--I cannot tell, unless it be to wish me a happy journey: I
am not gypsy enough to interpret the thoughts of other people.

Antonio.--All last night I lay awake, thinking of the affairs of
Egypt; and when I arose in the morning I took the bar lachi from my
bosom, and scraping it with a knife, swallowed some of the dust in
aguardiente, as I am in the habit of doing when I have made up my
mind; and I said to myself, I am wanted on the frontiers of
Castumba (Castile) on a certain matter. The strange Caloro is
about to proceed to Madrilati; the journey is long, and he may fall
into evil hands, peradventure into those of his own blood; for let
me tell you, brother, the Cales are leaving their towns and
villages, and forming themselves into troops to plunder the Busne,
for there is now but little law in the land, and now or never is
the time for the Calore to become once more what they were in
former times; so I said, the strange Caloro may fall into the hands
of his own blood and be ill-treated by them, which were shame: I
will therefore go with him through the Chim del Manro (Estremadura)
as far as the frontiers of Castumba, and upon the frontiers of
Castumba I will leave the London Caloro to find his own way to
Madrilati, for there is less danger in Castumba than in the Chim
del Manro, and I will then betake me to the affairs of Egypt which
call me from hence.

Myself.--This is a very hopeful plan of yours, my friend; and in
what manner do you propose that we shall travel?

Antonio.--I will tell you, brother; I have a gras in the stall,
even the one which I purchased at Olivencas, as I told you on a
former occasion; it is good and fleet, and cost me, who am a gypsy,