CHAPTER IX
Rustic humour—The haunted venta—Prehistoric graves—A deferred journey—More mountain hospitality—The end of my ride—A lost train—A night in a posada—Chivalrous José—Mixed company—Good-bye to the hills.
The rain poured in torrents, and the clouds were so black that at three in the afternoon we sat in semi-darkness; but the time did not hang heavy on our hands, for I was entertained by watching the amenities of my pretty girl and her lover, a shy youth with an odd lock of white hair over his forehead. And there was a wizened old fellow picturesquely clad in a short brown jacket strengthened in the decorative style of the province at the elbows, wrists, collar, and seams, with black cloth cut in a design, and wearing really handsome embroidered leather overalls reaching from his waist to his knees, who had a sly humour that brought forth peals of laughter from the company. He sharpened his wits upon Mariquita and her Rafael, but I took care not to understand these jokes, knowing that they are apt to embarrass a modest British matron; and as soon as I could I turned the conversation by asking if it was true that there was a susto (fright), miedo (fear), or duende (ghost) haunting the river, as I had heard tell in Algodonales. It was not strictly true that I had heard such a tale, but I know by experience that an inquiry of the kind, if made sympathetically, often brings forth some interesting folk-lore.
RUSTIC LOVERS.
It did so in this case, and the story proved so strange that I must tell it in full.
I learnt that the venta is haunted by the ghost of a white cat, which appears outside the door and vanishes up the gully in the direction of a place called Las Cuevas.
How did they know it was a ghost, and not a real cat?
Because there was no white cat on the premises, and because it answered when spoken to. Many people had seen it, and if they said