Assured of the ladies' safety, the men of the two (outwardly) united parties remained to help the chauffeurs and a bewildered landlord to take down luggage. Overwhelmed by a wave of halfgrown children and a thick spray of babies, Carmona's man lost his presence of mind. The two cars had hardly stopped before the little creatures were in them, and on them, and under them, trying to pinch the tyres, blowing the horn, squalling, laughing, crying. “Mon Dieu, c'est un obsession!” wailed the unfortunate Frenchman; and even the imperturbable Ropes showed signs of “nerves.”
As fast as the thronging goblins were beaten off, they were up again in redoubled force; but so merry they were, and so handsome was each bold brown face, with its dazzling eyes, that it was impossible to be angry. Somehow, we rescued the luggage, and with the aid of the landlord pitched, or slid, or rolled it through the door, momentarily opened.
“For Heaven's sake, sir, see me through this!” implored Ropes, noticing that the men of the party were on the point of following the luggage. “Hate to trouble you, but I don't think my Spanish will run to it.” In pity I climbed into the car to go with him to the stable which the landlord indicated as our garage. It was an experience to be remembered in nightmares; yet there was in it a sort of schoolboy pleasure. We seemed to have done [pg 178]battle against the whole force of the army out against us; nevertheless when we returned to the fonda, swept along by a large bodyguard, we found a regiment assembled round the door. How we got through was food for another wild dream, but we did get through, to stand panting on the other side of the grating, in the patio.
Dozens of dark faces were pressed against the bars, like tier above tier of glowing pansies in a flower-bed; and we knew at last the sensation of those who are the observed, not the observers, in a menagerie.
Everyone was in the patio, where electric lights hanging from the balconies mingled with rich yellow lamplight and ruddy firelight streaming from the kitchen. All the luggage was piled anyhow, in a chaotic heap surging with suit-cases, boiling with dressing-bags; while near by, like Marius and a friend or two at the ruins of Carthage, stood the Duchess, Lady Vale-Avon, Carmona, Dick, and the Cherub. Monica and Pilar had been talking at a distance with a young girl of the house, but seeing me gravitate in their direction, Lady Vale-Avon called her daughter.
“The ladies are saying they can't stay here,” announced Dick, his voice in sympathy with a twinkle in his eyes.
“I'm not saying so,” cut in Monica. “I think it will be fun; a real adventure. The landlady's wonderful, and all her daughters and nieces beauties. If we're nice to them, they'll be adorable to us.”
“The place is a den!” exclaimed Lady Vale-Avon. “There must be something better in the town.”
“I'm afraid there isn't,” said the Duke. “This accident has made me helpless. I'm horribly sorry; but we can't get on anywhere else to-night.”
“We can sit up,” said the Duchess, “in the automobile.”