One evening, just before his departure, Lunes was sternly tried on this subject in my presence in the parlor, yet nothing could make him revoke his trip to the land of palm-trees and malaria. London was too cold for him;—he hated stockings;—shoes were an abomination!
“Yet, tell me, Lunes,” said one of the most bewitching of my fair friends,—“how is it that you go home to be a slave, when you may remain in London as a freeman?”
I will repeat his answer—divested of its native gibberish:
“Yes, Madam, I go—because I like my country best; if I am to be a slave or work, I want to do so for a true Spaniard. I don’t like this thing, Miss,”—pointing to his shirt collar,—“it cuts my ears;—I don’t like this thing”—pointing to his trowsers; “I like my country’s fashion better than yours;”—and, taking out a large handkerchief, he gave the inquisitive dame a rapid demonstration of African economy in concealing nakedness, by twisting it round those portions of the human frame which modesty is commonly in the habit of hiding!
There was a round of applause and a blaze of blushes at this extemporaneous pantomime, which Lunes concluded with the assurance that he especially loved his master, because,—“when he grew to be a proper man, I would give him plenty of wives!”
I confess that my valet’s philanthropic audience was not exactly prepared for this edifying culmination in favor of Africa; but, while my friends were busy in obliterating the red and the wrinkles from their cheeks, I took the liberty to enjoy, from behind the shadow of my tea cup, the manifest disgust they felt for the bad taste of poor Lunes!
CHAPTER LXIV.
By this time my curiosity was not only satiated by the diversions of the great metropolis, but I had wandered off to the country and visited the most beautiful parts of the islands. Two months thus slipped by delightfully in Great Britain when a sense of duty called me to Havana; yet, before my departure, I resolved, if possible, to secure the alliance of some opulent Englishman to aid me in the foundation and maintenance of lawful commerce at Cape Mount. Such a person I found in Mr. George Clavering Redman, of London, who owned the Gil Blas, which, with two other vessels, he employed in trade between England and Africa.