And with this hurried adieu the little man in the Madrid suit fairly bolted out of the café, and ran down the street at full speed.
And in the dusk of the gable arches the Gallegan sat with his head sunk low in his hands.
"What a fool, Ramon Garcia! What a mortal fool you were—to have thought for a moment that your little Dolóres could have loved a thing like that!"
CHAPTER XII
THE CRYING OF A YOUNG CHILD
"And now, gentlemen," said Monsieur Etienne grandly, "where is the young gentleman who traduced in my hearing the fair fame of Doña Concha Cabezos? Ma foi, I will transfer my cartel to him!"
Then, with great dignity, uprose the ancient valiant man of the octroi of Sarria, for he felt that some one must vindicate the municipality.
"Cavalier," he said, with a sweeping bow which did honour at once to himself and to the place in which they were assembled, "there may be those amongst us who have spoken too freely, and on their behalf and my own I convey to you an apology if we have unwittingly offended. In a venta—I beg my nephew's pardon—in a café, like the Café de Madrid, men's tongues wag fast without harm being intended to any man, much less to any honourable lady. So it was in this case, and in the name of the loyal town of Sarria, I express my regret. If these words be sufficient, here is my hand. The Café de Madrid, sir, begs your acceptance of a bottle of the best within its cellars. But if your lordship be still offended, there are twenty men here who are ready to meet you on the field of honour. For I would have you know, gentlemen, that we are also Caballeros. But it must be with the weapons in the use of which we have some skill—the cloak wrapped about the left arm, the Manchegan knife in the right hand. Or, if our Aragonese custom please not your honours, I make myself personally responsible for any words that may have been spoken; aye, and will be proud to stand out upon the hillside and exchange shots with you till you are fully satisfied—standing up, man to man, at one hundred yards. This I do because the offence was given in my nephew's café, and because for forty years I have been called the Valiant Man of Sarria!"
The ancient Gaspar stood before them, alternately patting the stock of his blunderbuss and pulling the ragged ends of his long white moustachios, till Rollo, who could recognise true courage when he saw it, stepped up to him, and making a low bow held out a hand, which the other immediately grasped amid plaudits from the assembled company.