Leaving our guns and shooting apparatus at our hotel, we wandered about the town; visited the Alcazaba, which must once have been a fortress of vast strength; then the old Roman Cathedral and Bishop's Palace; but we lingered longest in the Alameda—that beautiful promenade—which is eighty feet wide, and is bordered by rows of orange and oleander trees, and in the centre of which a magnificent marble fountain was tossing its sparkling waters into the starry sky.
Here we saw some bright-eyed Spanish women in their dark mantillas and veils, and not a few in tha homely and assuredly less graceful bonnet and shawl of London and Paris, whose fashions are gradually, and, I think, unfortunately, superseding the more captivating dress of old Spain; we saw too, ferocious-looking soldiers in dark dresses, weaving yellow sashes, red forage caps, and enormous moustaches; old priests gliding stealthily along, with an aspect of meekness, and apparently crushed in spirit; for the Government presses with a heavy hand on the ecclesiastics; citizens clad in light stuffs of bright colours, with red sashes and low-crowned hats, having black silk tufts at each side; queer-looking Caballeros in large brown cloaks like that of Don Diego de Mendoza's "Poor Hidalgo," and wearing hats 'à la Kossuth.' As every man was smoking as if his salvation depended upon his doing so with vigour, the whole air was redolent of cigars.
I had on my undress, a forage cap, and plain red jacket, with tartan trews, my sash and dirk; for I have found that the British uniform always ensures the wearer attention and respect in every part of the globe.
We wandered long in that lovely Alameda, until the last of its fair promenaders had withdrawn; and then we returned to our hotel rather disappointed, that of all the black eyes we had seen flashing under veils of Madeira lace, not one had given us a glance of encouragement; that of all the pretty lips, which had been lisping dulcet Spanish mixed with the Arabic of Granada, none had invited us to follow; that of all the sombre cavaliers, not one appeared to be an assassin or a Grand Inquisitor; and that, of all the hideous old duennas whom we had seen cruising about us, not one had approached, and with finger on her lip, and an impressive glance in her eye, placed a mysterious note into either of our hands, and "disappeared in the crowd."
Nothing remarkable happened, save that Hall had his pocket picked of his handkerchief and cigar-case, and we returned like other men to our hotel, where we supped on devilled turkey and the wine of the district, Tierno and Malaga; after which we turned into bed, warning the waiter to summon us early, and have a guide to lead us toward the neighbouring hills, where we intended to make some havock among the game next day.
Punctually at five o'clock in the morning the mozo-de-cafe roused us, and, after coffee, we shouldered our double-barrelled rifles, and accompanied by a young 'gamin' named Pedrillo, for whose fidelity the waiter pledged his "honour," we departed on our ramble.
If ever you saw the Spanish beggar-boys, as depicted by Murillo in his famous picture, which is now in Dulwich College, they will know perfectly the aspect of Pedrillo, our little guide.
He was about twelve years old; but, hardened by indigence and sharpened by privation, his perceptive faculties were keener than those of many a man. His sallow little visage was stamped with more of the animal than the intellectual being; his eyes were black, glossy, and glittered alternately with cunning and intelligence. His sole attire consisted of a dilapidated shirt, a pair of knee-breeches, and a cowl, which confined his luxuriant black hair; he had zinc rings in his ears, and bore altogether the aspect of a little Lazzarone.
He was intelligent withal, and he told us a vast number of anecdotes, which increased in wonder and ferocity as we paid him one peseta after another; but he dwelt particularly on the achievements of a certain Juan Roa, otherwise styled de Antequera, who was then prowling in that savage range of mountains, from whence he descended sometimes alone, sometimes with many followers, especially when the Solano blew from Africa, to commit outrages among the quiet quintas and villages of the fertile Vega, where he was said to be in league with every posada-keeper for forty miles around Malaga.
About mid-day we rested under the cool shadow of a cork wood, about ten miles from the city; it was a beautiful place, where the sward was soft as velvet, and where a thick border of blushing rose-trees, and wild hydrangias flourished near us. Here we shared our provisions with a paisano and two armed contrabandistas whom we met, and who shared with us their wine in return. The two smugglers had strong and active horses, and carried blunderbusses and pistols to guard their bales of chocolate, soap, tobacco, and cigars; they were fine, merry fellows, gaudily dressed, and full of fun and anecdote; for in Spain the contrabandista is a species of travelling newspaper. Now all their news were of the last feat or outrage of Juan Roa.