“Then how in the name of wonder,” said I, speaking English, “came you to answer me in Spanish? I am an Englishman thorough bred.”
“I can scarcely tell you how it was, sir,” said the man scratching his head, “but I thought I would speak to you in Spanish.”
“And why not English?” said I.
“Why, I heard you speaking Welsh,” said the man; “and as for an Englishman speaking Welsh—”
“But why not answer me in Welsh?” said I.
“Why, I saw it was not your language, sir,” said the man, “and as I had picked up some Spanish I thought it would be but fair to answer you in it.”
“But how did you know that I could speak Spanish?” said I.
“I don’t know indeed, sir,” said the man; “but I looked at you, and something seemed to tell me that you could speak Spanish. I can’t tell you how it was sir,” said he, looking me very innocently in the face, “but I was forced to speak Spanish to you. I was indeed!”
“The long and the short of it was,” said I, “that you took me for a foreigner, and thought that it would be but polite to answer me in a foreign language.”
“I daresay it was so, sir,” said the man. “I daresay it was just as you say.”