"What do you want?" he asked, in no very courteous manner.
"Nothing," said the priest. "Not one single thing from you but—breakfast. Don't be alarmed. I haven't come in here to interfere with you at all. My business is elsewhere. Do you understand me?"
The priest gave him a glance which was meant to convey more than the words expressed. At this the whole manner of the Carlist chief underwent a change. He at once dropped all his sourness and gloom.
"Do you mean it?" he asked, eagerly.
The priest nodded.
"Certainly."
"Then," cried the Carlist, "you're right welcome, and I hope you'll not mind what's happened. We have to be cautious, you know, and suspicious."
"My dear friend, I assure you I shouldn't have troubled you at all, only I'm starving."
"Then I swear you shall have the best breakfast in all Spain. Come in; come in. Come, in the name of Heaven, and I'll give you a breakfast that will last you for a week."
With these words the Carlist chief led the way inside, and the priest followed.