The Gypsy remained for some time like one astounded and, unwilling to listen to their discourse, which I imagined might relate to business of Egypt, I walked away amidst the thickets. I was absent for some time, but could occasionally hear passionate expressions and oaths. In about half an hour I returned; they had left the road, but I found then behind the broom clump, where the animals stood. Both were seated on the ground; the features of the Gypsy were peculiarly dark and grim; he held his unsheathed knife in his hand, which he would occasionally plunge into the earth, exclaiming, “All! All!”
“Brother,” said he at last, “I can go no farther with you; the business which carried me to Castumba is settled; you must now travel by yourself and trust to your baji (fortune).”
“I trust in Undevel,” I replied, “who wrote my fortune long ago. But how am I to journey? I have no horse, for you doubtless want your own.”
The Gypsy appeared to reflect: “I want the horse, it is true, brother,” he said, “and likewise the macho; but you shall not go en pindre (on foot); you shall purchase the burra of Antonia, which I presented her when I sent her upon this expedition.”
“The burra,” I replied, “appears both savage and vicious.”
“She is both, brother, and on that account I bought her; a savage and vicious beast has generally four excellent legs. You are a Calo, brother, and can manage her; you shall therefore purchase the savage burra, giving my daugher Antonia a baria of gold. If you think fit, you can sell the beast at Talavera or Madrid, for Estremenian bestis are highly considered in Castumba.”
In less than an hour I was on the other side of the pass, mounted on the savage burra.
CHAPTER XI
The Pass of Mirabéte—Wolves and Shepherds—Female Subtlety—Death by Wolves—The Mystery Solved—The Mountains—The Dark Hour—The Traveller of the Night—Abarbenel—Hoarded Treasure—Force of Gold—The Archbishop—Arrival at Madrid.
I proceeded down the pass of Mirabéte, occasionally ruminating on the matter which had brought me to Spain, and occasionally admiring one of the finest prospects in the world; before me outstretched lay immense plains, bounded in the distance by huge mountains, whilst at the foot of the hill which I was now descending, rolled the Tagus, in a deep narrow stream, between lofty banks; the whole was gilded by the rays of the setting sun; for the day, though cold and wintry, was bright and clear. In about an hour I reached the river at a place where stood the remains of what had once been a magnificent bridge, which had, however, been blown up in the Peninsular war and never since repaired.