"Then the sooner we leave the better, for we have much to lose and nothing to gain by lingering here."
"For there is neither law, justice, nor honour among these Spaniards," said Slingsby, making a smart application to the bell-rope.
"What! you say so in the face of this charming letter?"
"Charming, indeed, to be told that a captain of robbers—a picturesque ruffian in a steeple-crowned hat and red garters, has been bribed to cut your throat—to 'do' for you in the flower of your youth for a hundred pistoles."
The letter raised a glow of sad, of kind, and regretful emotions within me; but I stifled them all, and, calling for the bill, settled with the landlord in person.
"What manner of magistrates have you here in Seville?" asked the unwary Jack.
"How, señor?"
"When they permit thieves to prowl about your streets at night."
"Thieves, señor—Ave Maria!"
"Yes, thieves, señor patron. Fabrique de Urquija was on the old Alameda last night with a well-known bravo from Portugal."