Now Pedro's gaudy brown jacket, all covered with silver bell-buttons, bright silken lace, and spangles; his ample breeches of gay velveteen; his brilliant sash and broad hat placed a little over the right eye, made him a welcome visitor to all the women, while the stories, news, or fibs which his incessant perambulations afforded him ample means of collecting, made him equally acceptable to the men; thus, like other bold contrabandistas, who by sea and land set the laws of the Cortes at defiance, Pedro was always sure of the brightest smiles, the oldest wine in the cellar, the best fowl in the larder, the warmest corner by the kitchen fire, and the most snug cama in the posada, while pretty hands stroked his docile jennet, and readier ones removed his corded packages, and placed his guitar and loaded gun by his bedside for the night.
Pedro's songs, and the stories he told during the single night we spent with him, would fill a volume; but the time passed rapidly away; we were up betimes, mounted and armed to ride; and with something of real satisfaction, Jack and I turned our backs on those hated mountains, where a thicket of green laurels, diminished to a black speck by the distance, indicated the locality of the Rio de Muerte.
Trotting pleasantly, we passed Isla-mayor, which lies about twelve miles from the mouth of the Guadalquiver, and abounds in fruit-trees, which were then in full blossom.
By this time, Paulina, her dark eyes, and her witchery were alike forgotten, and her little note on pink paper had been smoked away in cigaritos. The keen interest taken in our affairs by the major had completely cured me; so much for Spanish romance contrasted with Spanish reality.
"And you have decided on taking the steamer at San Lucar, señores?" said Pedro.
"Yes, and happy shall we be to find ourselves safe on board of her," said I; "we have had too many devilish scrapes among you Spaniards to wish for more travelling in the saddle. It is no joke to escape being hanged as a spy by a blundering alcalde one day, and a terrible death the next by drowning, at the hands of——"
"My brother Fabrique," said he, good-humouredly, closing a sentence, the termination of which might have proved unpleasant. "Well, señores, my little felucca the 'Buena Fortuna'—you know her, with her long brass gun and lateen sails—is lying concealed in a solitary creek near Carbonera. I have run her in there, because a fleet—yes, maldito—a whole fleet of guarda costas are at anchor in the harbour of San Lucar; but we must put to sea to-morrow night, and if you will so far honour me, Caballeros, as to accept a passage with me to Gibraltar, the best valdepenas and the noblest Xeres that ever came out of a madre-butt shall be at your service. Ah, you shake your head, Señor Don Ricardo, and think you have had enough of me and my poor little craft——"
"Right, Pedro, and wish to have no more affairs with a guarda costa," said Slingsby; "besides, if you were attacked and taken at sea, after a fight, you would fight, of course——"
"To the death, Señor, guerra al cuchillo, as the old guerillas say."
"Well—what would be our fate?"