"Come with me, and ask no questions."
Such was the oracular order addressed by Master Pedro to his friend, Master Sancho, the morning after the conversation over that wonderful new wine of Madeira, and, with great alacrity, the merchant prepared to obey, exclaiming, with a joyous rub of his hands:
"Ah, neighbour, have your will in that matter of the questioning, for well I guess you would not think to fetch me from my business at this hour of a working-day but on account of our last night's confab."
However, for all so sure as he had felt on the matter, he began to be uncomfortably doubtful when his companion led him from his own door into the next, from which issued the mingled odours of every known spice under the sun, and none of them, to worthy Sancho's thinking, deserving to be compared with the sweet airs wafted over the fields of their own native lavender.
"Come in then," testily exclaimed Master Pedro, from the interior of a room just within the house, and at the entrance of which his friend had been arrested by the snarlings of two particularly vicious-looking pups. "Come in; they'll not hurt thee. They know better than to touch a Spaniard. They are to teach manners to the natives out yonder."
"Ah!" ejaculated Sancho, with an involuntary shudder, and a look expressive both of disgust and anger. But he quickly concealed these emotions. For the present he had one great object in view, and for its furtherance he must keep his companion in good humour, although his own was tested to the uttermost, not only by the dogs and their purpose, but by Master Pedro's employment for the next twenty minutes or so.
The trader with Venice well enough understood the merits and beauties of crystal-clear lustres, coloured vases, and golden goblets, and he had a fair taste in the velvets from Genoa and the fine straws from Tuscany, but of what use or value all those Moorish tags and rags could be, which the curiosity-dealer was turning over, save to patch the holes in the cloaks of the beggars who lay around the doors of the neighbouring church of San Salvador, he could not imagine.
"Nay, friend Pedro," he exclaimed at last, with an effort to show no temper, and to still speak pleasantly; "nay, friend Pedro, if thou hast brought me here to get a bid from me for yon small rubbish-heap, I tell thee frankly I value it at nought, seeing it will not even serve to feed a fire with. Nevertheless, I will even take it, to pleasure thee and to save mine own time, and at what price you list."
"Wilt thou then that?" said the other, with a grim smile, as he slowly lifted himself up from stooping over the pile of lumber, of all hues and textures, rich and sombre-coloured, thick and fragile. "Another time, neighbour Sancho, I would warn thee to be more chary of passing thy word to a blind bargain, lest one more cunning than thyself should hold thee to the promise. To purchase the rare wares of this small rubbish-heap would take many more than all the maravedis paid thee yester morn for thy lustres, by the fathers of San Jacomb. This veil alone hath been purchased of me for a fair round sum."
Master Sancho stared at the filmy texture, disfigured here and there with rents, and shrugged his shoulders.