There was evidently an attempt at concealment in this reply, which whetted my curiosity. I resolved to make a confidant of the young Spaniard by telling him the object of my journey, and the many checks I had experienced since my departure from Mexico.
"Our positions are not dissimilar," said the Spaniard, when I had done. "Like you, I am pursuing a nameless object; but thank God that you have been saved from the dangers that I have undergone."
"Tell me about them," I said. "I like a story told in the open air—at night above all, and in the light of a fire like this."
"Be it so," said the Spaniard. "I shall begin by telling you that I am a Biscayan and a nobleman; not by election, like most of my Compatriots, but descended from a long line of ancestors, who recognize Lope Chouria as the chief of their ancient clan. My name is Don Jaime de Villalobos. I bear another name here for common use. My mother has the first rank in my affection, then my father, and lastly my country. You now know me, Señor Cavalier. I am now about to tell you of the affair in which I am at present engaged."
The slight air of superciliousness with which he began his story was not displeasing to me; it was like a continuation of the Romancero of which the young nobleman had been singing a verse a short time before. He continued with more simplicity.
"Unfortunately, I was born poor, though of noble blood. More than once during my infancy have I been awakened from sleep by the rude ice-wind which whistled without obstruction through the ruined manor-house in which my mother and I dwelt. As a compensation, God gave me a good appetite, which made me forget the cold. I shot up apace; my noble birth interdicted me from all manual labor and servile employment; and to leave my mother, who was now growing old, and take service in the army, was a step which was not in accordance with my inclination. However, I could not long remain a stranger to the civil war which was then raging in the Basque Provinces. Don Carlos, you are perhaps aware, often forgot to pay his officers and soldiers, and all that I gained in his service was the honor of being a creditor of his noble highness. Returning to my maternal abode, I was grieved to find it more dilapidated than ever, and to feel still more the anguish which rent my mother's heart, for I saw her sinking day after day under the double burden of old age and poverty. One evening a peddler came and demanded hospitality of us, and as he only asked for shelter, we granted it. His wandering life had enabled him to pick up all sorts of news, and I learned from him that one of our neighbors had made a wealthy marriage in New Spain.
"'What a capital thing it would be,' said he, 'if a young nobleman like you could be so lucky in that land of gold and silver, where the ambition of all the women is summed up in the couplet,
"'Canrisas de Britaña,[25]
Y maridos de España.'