“Gatito, gatito, porque tan flaquito?”
(Little cat, little cat, why art thou so thin, or feeble?)
The cat would answer
“Porque ’tamo’ li’to’,”
which is the peasant pronunciation of “estamos listos.” The correct meaning of this is “Because we are ready,” or “clever” (listo has both meanings), but they here gave “listo” the meaning of “finished” or “done with.”
But why did the cat go up to the Cuevas (caves)? And what caves did it go to? And who were referred to as “finished”?
Well, it went there because there were other ghosts there, many of them animals in all sorts of shapes; but the cat was the only one that spoke. There always had been a susto in that gully. The cuevas? Well, they were just caves, like any other caves in the Sierra. The gipsies slept in them on their way from one fair to another, and shepherds too were glad enough to take shelter there from storms like the present one. Would my honour like to see them? The storm was passing over now, and they could take me up there in a moment, before I continued my journey.
José was quite willing to accompany me to Las Cuevas, but pointed out that it was already so late that we could not hope to catch the five o’clock train at Morón, as the road, although quite safe for the rest of the way, would be muddy in places and make our progress slow. The Señora must understand that it would be night before we arrived, and Señoras seldom liked riding at night, although he had observed that day that English Señoras, if they were all like me—the first specimen of the race that he had come across—were much more valiant than those of his own country.
The ventera’s family, now quite determined to overcome all difficulties in the way of a visit which would “give importance” to their ghosts, flung themselves into the breach. Why should I not stay the night in their house? True, it was only a house of poor people, but I should have a catre in the kitchen, and the mattress of Mariquita, and the bed-linen from her chest, all quite new for her approaching wedding. And then I could go on next day at my ease for the afternoon train, for certainly it would be fine to-morrow after the storm, and the mud would have dried up; while as for food, if I would condescend to share the family puchero, it would be very rich to-day, for they had killed a fowl to put in it, and there were fresh eggs and goat cheese, and plenty of wine.
Who could resist such an offer? Certainly no archæologist on the track of caves and ghosts.