CHAPTER XVIII
THE TAVERN IN THE CALLE DEL BODEGONCILLO
THE tavern was a small one; it had a red counter covered with zinc, a door at one side through which one passed into a large cellar lit by two smoky oil lamps and several black lanterns. That night there was a great concourse and influx of people in the place. Quentin and Springer entered, traversed the outer room, then crossed the cellar, where there were several occupied tables, and sat down at a small one in the light of an oil lamp.
“This is our table,” said Quentin.
He clapped his hands, and the landlord, a man by the name of El Pullí, appeared; he ordered some crabs, a ration of fried fish, and a bottle of Montilla. Then he said:
“Bring me the bill for everything I owe.”
El Pullí returned presently with the crabs, the fried fish, and the wine, and, upon a dish; a paper upon which several letters and figures had been scrawled in blue ink.
Quentin took the paper, pulled out several bills from his vest pocket, and proceeded to toss them upon the plate.
“Is that right?” he asked of El Pullí.
“It must be right if you counted it,” replied the man.
“Here’s something for the boy,” added Quentin, putting a dollar upon the table.