I must own that though I was pretty well assured of the truth of Jack's surmises and suspicions, fear for my own safety was quite a secondary emotion to my sincere sorrow for the bereavement we had occasioned to poor old Donna Dominga and the lively Paulina. As for that stormy fellow Joaquim, I felt no compunction for him in the least; his grief was too noisy, and his sudden hostility too deep to leave much room for natural sorrow; and so, while surmising, considering, revolving, and talking the matter threadbare, we finished several bottles of champagne; through the medium of these we easily came to the conclusion that we were the most injured parties; that we had been grossly insulted somehow, over night—that the usual satisfaction was necessary; and then we retired to bed in a state of just and proper indignation at the malevolent threats of Don Joaquim and his friends, to whom the affair formed a notable subject for discussion at those morning meetings, which are so dearly prized by the Spaniards, who then debate everything from a ballet girl's ancle to a rising in Catalonia; and for these gossips, the place of rendezvous in Seville is the Plaza de San Domingo.
CHAPTER X.
DON FABRIQUE.
We were awake betimes in the morning, and breakfasted early, in the true Spanish style, on good stiff chocolate with fried eggs, purple wine, and snow-white bread; but no hostile message came from Don Joaquim. The hours stole on, and the sunlit streets threw the shadows of their picturesque façades against each other. The events of the last night, and their probable consequences, had given us a decided distaste for prowling about the streets of Seville. We were both somewhat thoughtful, and said little, or conferred only on the nearest route by which we could reach Gibraltar, in coming from which, we had made somewhat of a détour; and Jack hinted that we should probably have some more brawls with alcaldes, rows at posadas, skirmishes with banditos, and other pleasant adventures, before we reported ourselves "as just arrived" at head quarters.
"A letter for El Señor Capitano Don Ricardo," said the waiter, approaching.
"A letter for you, Dick," said Slingsby.
"So it has come at last," said I, breaking the seal.
"Will it be an affair of knives or pistols?"
"Hush!" said I, as the waiter retired.
"Slugs in a saw-pit, and all that sort of thing—a triangular duel, eh? But an officer should have brought it."