He locked the door, and deposited the key in his faja. In less
than a quarter of an hour we had left the town behind us. "This
does not appear to be a very good horse," said I to Antonio, as we
proceeded over the plain. "It is with difficulty that I can make
him move."

"He is the swiftest horse in the Chim del Manro, brother," said
Antonio; "at the gallop and at the speedy trot there is no one to
match him; but he is eighteen years old, and his joints are stiff,
especially of a morning; but let him once become heated and the
genio del viejo (spirit of the old man) comes upon him and there is
no holding him in with bit or bridle. I bought that horse for the
affairs of Egypt, brother."

About noon we arrived at a small village in the neighbourhood of a
high lumpy hill. "There is no Calo house in this place," said
Antonio; "we will therefore go to the posada of the Busne, and
refresh ourselves, man and beast." We entered the kitchen and sat
down at the boards, calling for wine and bread. There were two
ill-looking fellows in the kitchen, smoking cigars; I said
something to Antonio in the Calo language.

"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