“It is not possible, say you? I tell you it is. Come forward, Balseiro, you who have been in prison all your life, and are always boasting that you can speak the crabbed Gitano, though I say you know nothing of it—come forward and speak to his worship in the crabbed Gitano.”
A low, slight, but active figure stepped forward. He was in his shirt-sleeves, and wore a montero cap; [177b] his features were handsome, but they were those of a demon.
He spoke a few words in the broken gypsy slang of the prison, inquiring of me whether I had ever been in the condemned cell, and whether I knew what a Gitana [177c] was.
“Vamos Inglesito,” shouted Sevilla, in a voice of thunder; “answer the monró in the crabbed Gitano.”
I answered the robber, for such he was, and one too whose name will live for many a year in the ruffian histories of Madrid; I answered him in a speech of some length, in the dialect of the Estremenian gypsies.
“I believe it is the crabbed Gitano,” muttered Balseiro. “It is either that or English, for I understand not a word of it.”
“Did I not say to you,” cried the bull-fighter, “that you knew nothing of the crabbed Gitano? But this Inglesito does. I understood all he said. Vaya, there is none like him for the crabbed Gitano. He is a good ginete, too; next to myself, there is none like him, only he rides with stirrup leathers too short. [178] Inglesito, if you have need of money, I will lend you my purse. All I have is at your service, and that is not a little; I have just gained four thousand chulés by the lottery. Courage, Englishman! Another cup. I will pay all—I, Sevilla!”
And he clapped his hand repeatedly on his breast, reiterating, “I, Sevilla! I—”
CHAPTER XIII.
Intrigues at Court—Quesada and Galiano—Dissolution of the Cortes—The Secretary—Aragonese Pertinacity—The Council of Trent—The Asturian—The Three Thieves—Benedict Mol—The Men of Lucerne—The Treasure.