‘He did not see her at all, O my son, but we told him we had a beautiful mule, worth any money, which we were anxious to dispose of, as a donkey suited our purpose better. We are afraid that when he sees her he will repent his bargain, and if he calls off within four-and-twenty hours, the exchange is null, and the justicia will cause us to restore the ass; we have, however, already removed her to our huérta out of the town, where we have hid her below the ground. Dios sabe (God knows) how it will turn out.’
When the man and woman saw the lame, foundered, one-eyed creature, for which and the reckoning they had exchanged their own beautiful borrico, they stood confounded. It was about ten in the morning, and they had not altogether recovered from the fumes of the wine of the preceding night; at last the man, with a frightful oath, exclaimed to the innkeeper, ‘Restore my donkey, you Gypsy villain!’
‘It cannot be, brother,’ replied the latter, ‘your donkey is by this time three leagues from here: I sold her this morning to a man I do not know, and I am afraid I shall have a hard bargain with her, for he only gave two dollars, as she was unsound. O, you have taken me in, I am a poor fool as they call me here, and you understand much, very much, baribu.’ [230]
‘Her value was thirty-five dollars, thou demon,’ said the countryman, ‘and the justicia will make you pay that.’
‘Come, come, brother,’ said the Gypsy, ‘all this is mere conversation; you have a capital bargain, to-day the mercado is held, and you shall sell the mule; I will go with you myself. O, you understand baribu; sister, bring the bottle of anise; the señor and the señora must drink a copíta.’ After much persuasion, and many oaths, the man and woman were weak enough to comply; when they had drunk several glasses, they departed for the market, the Gypsy leading the mule. In about two hours they returned with the wretched beast, but not exactly as they went; a numerous crowd followed, laughing and hooting. The man was now frantic, and the woman yet more so. They forced their way upstairs to collect their baggage, which they soon effected, and were about to leave the house, vowing revenge. Now ensued a truly terrific scene, there were no more blandishments; the Gypsy men and women were in arms, uttering the most frightful execrations; as the woman came downstairs, the females assailed her like lunatics; the cripple poked at her with a stick, the tall hag clawed at her hair, whilst the father Gypsy walked close beside the man, his hand on his clasp-knife, looking like nothing in this world: the man, however, on reaching the door, turned to him and said: ‘Gypsy demon, my borrico by three o’clock—or you know the rest, the justicia.’
The Gypsies remained filled with rage and disappointment; the hag vented her spite on her brother. ‘’Tis your fault,’ said she; ‘fool! you have no tongue; you a Chabó, you can’t speak’; whereas, within a few hours, he had perhaps talked more than an auctioneer during a three days’ sale: but he reserved his words for fitting occasions, and now sat as usual, sullen and silent, smoking his pipe.
The man and woman made their appearance at three o’clock, but they came—intoxicated; the Gypsy’s eyes glistened—blandishment was again had recourse to. ‘Come and sit down with the cavalier here,’ whined the family; ‘he is a friend of ours, and will soon arrange matters to your satisfaction.’ I arose, and went into the street; the hag followed me. ‘Will you not assist us, brother, or are you no Chabó?’ she muttered.
‘I will have nothing to do with your matters,’ said I.
‘I know who will,’ said the hag, and hurried down the street.
The man and woman, with much noise, demanded their donkey; the innkeeper made no answer, and proceeded to fill up several glasses with the anisado. In about a quarter of an hour, the Gypsy hag returned with a young man, well dressed, and with a genteel air, but with something wild and singular in his eyes. He seated himself by the table, smiled, took a glass of liquor, drank part of it, smiled again, and handed it to the countryman. The latter seeing himself treated in this friendly manner by a caballero, was evidently much flattered, took off his hat to the newcomer, and drank, as did the woman also. The glass was filled, and refilled, till they became yet more intoxicated. I did not hear the young man say a word: he appeared a passive automaton. The Gypsies, however, spoke for him, and were profuse of compliments. It was now proposed that the caballero should settle the dispute; a long and noisy conversation ensued, the young man looking vacantly on: the strange people had no money, and had already run up another bill at a wine-house to which they had retired. At last it was proposed, as if by the young man, that the Gypsy should purchase his own mule for two dollars, and forgive the strangers the reckoning of the preceding night. To this they agreed, being apparently stultified with the liquor, and the money being paid to them in the presence of witnesses, they thanked the friendly mediator, and reeled away.