"Come," I said again, "come. This is beneath you, Juan--to be angry with a slave! As well be vexed with a dog that yaps and snaps at you when you go to pat it. Sit down and eat your meal. We have a long ride before us."
Perhaps he saw some sense in my suggestion, for he flung himself into a chair and began to eat; and meanwhile the host, who was still hovering about, handing us now a dish of mutton dressed with oysters and pistachio nuts, and now some stewed pomegranates, chattered away at one side, telling us that the negro's master was not well--that he had been drinking again; but yet he was determined to set out at once.
"Though," said he, "but an hour before the caballeros rode in he had resolved to stay until to-morrow. I know not why he has changed his mind so swiftly. Oh!--the drink, the drink, the drink!" and he wagged his head.
That the dissolute man whom the landlord considered to be, in consequence, an English nobleman, was about to depart there could be no possibility of doubt. From where we sat at table, and because curtains to the windows seemed to be things of which those who kept the inn had never thought, we could see out into the courtyard quite plainly. Saw first the horses brought out--four of them--and harnessed to the huge, lumbering vehicle--the nobleman would have proved himself a kinder-hearted man if he had used six!--saw their cloths taken off their backs by the postillion, and observed the latter make ready to mount the near side leader. Also we saw the facchinos on ladders strapping tight the baggage which had been brought down and hoisted on top, then heard the landlord, who had now left serving us to attend to his parting guest, give orders that the noble traveller should be informed that all was ready for his departure. Upon which we quitted our seats at the table and walked over to the window, Juan's curiosity much excited at the chance of seeing this drunken English milor, as he called him. We had not long to wait. For presently we heard a considerable trampling on the stairs and some mumbled words--to my surprise the deep, guttural tones seemed familiar!--and then we saw a wrapped figure carried out between two of the facchinos and lifted up into the carriage.
And behind that figure walked a negro, his head also enveloped in a rich red shawl--as though the black creature feared the cold night air, forsooth!
But, even as they lifted the debauched man into his carriage, the wrappings about his face became disturbed and fell back on his shoulders, so that I could see his face--and I started as I did so. Started even more, too, when, a second later, I heard Juan exclaim in a subdued voice:
"My God, who is he? Almost I could swear----"
While in my excitement I interrupted him, saying:
"That an English nobleman! That!--Why, 'tis the drunken old ruffian who came from Rotterdam with me in the ship."
"And his name? His name?" Juan asked, breathlessly. "His name?"