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Andalusian fashion； whence I concluded he was a traveller； like myself；
though； maybe； somewhat less of an archaeologist。
* The Andalusians aspirate the /s/； and pronounce it like the soft
/c/ and the /z/； which Spaniards pronounce like the English /th/。 An
Andalusian may always be recognised by the way in which he says
/senor/。
〃You'll find this a fairly good one；〃 said I； holding out a real Havana
regalia。
He bowed his head slightly； lighted his cigar at mine； thanked me with
another nod； and began to smoke with a most lively appearance of
enjoyment。
〃Ah！〃 he exclaimed； as he blew his first puff of smoke slowly out of
his ears and nostrils。 〃What a time it is since I've had a smoke！〃
In Spain the giving and accepting of a cigar establishes bonds of
hospitality similar to those founded in Eastern countries on the partaking
of bread and salt。 My friend turned out more talkative than I had hoped。
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However； though he claimed to belong to the /partido/ of Montilla； he
seemed very ill…informed about the country。 He did not know the name of
the delightful valley in which we were sitting； he could not tell me the
names of any of the neighbouring villages； and when I inquired whether
he had not noticed any broken…down walls； broad…rimmed tiles； or carved
stones in the vicinity； he confessed he had never paid any heed to such
matters。 On the other hand； he showed himself an expert in horseflesh；
found fault with my mountnot a difficult affairand gave me a pedigree
of his own； which had come from the famous stud at Cordova。 It was a
splendid creature； indeed； so tough； according to its owner's claim； that it
had once covered thirty leagues in one day； either at the gallop or at full
trot the whole time。 In the midst of his story the stranger pulled up short；
as if startled and sorry he had said so much。 〃The fact is I was in a great
hurry to get to Cordova；〃 he went on； somewhat embarrassed。 〃I had to
petition the judges about a lawsuit。〃 As he spoke； he looked at my guide
Antonio； who had dropped his eyes。
The spring and the cool shade were so delightful that I bethought me
of certain slices of an excellent ham； which my friends at Montilla had
packed into my guide's wallet。 I bade him produce them； and invited the
stranger to share our impromptu lunch。 If he had not smoked for a long
time； he certainly struck me as having fasted for eight…and…forty hours at
the very least。 He ate like a starving wolf； and I thought to myself that my
appearance must really have been quite providential for the poor fellow。
Meanwhile my guide ate but little； drank still less； and spoke never a word；
although in the earlier part of our journey he had proved himself a most
unrivalled chatterer。 He seemed ill at ease in the presence of our guest； and
a sort of mutual distrust； the cause of which I could not exactly fathom；
seemed to be between them。
The last crumbs of bread and scraps of ham had disappeared。 We had
each smoked our second cigar； I told the guide to bridle the horses； and
was just about to take leave of my new friend； when he inquired where I
was going to spend the night。
Before I had time to notice a sign my guide was making to me I had
replied that I was going to the Venta del Cuervo。
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〃That's a bad lodging for a gentleman like you； sir！ I'm bound there
myself； and if you'll allow me to ride with you； we'll go together。〃
〃With pleasure！〃 I replied； mounting my horse。 The guide； who was
holding my stirrup； looked at me meaningly again。 I answered by
shrugging my shoulders； as though to assure him I was perfectly easy in
my mind； and we started on our way。
Antonio's mysterious signals； his evident anxiety； a few words dropped
by the stranger； above all； his ride of thirty leagues； and the far from
plausible explanation he had given us of it； had already enabled me to
form an opinion as to the identity of my fellow…traveller。 I had no doubt at
all I was in the company of a smuggler； and possibly of a brigand。 What
cared I？ I knew enough of the Spanish character to be very certain I had
nothing to fear from a man who had eaten and smoked with me。 His very
presence would protect me in case of any undesirable meeting。 And
besides； I was very glad to know what a brigand was really like。 One
doesn't come across such gentry every day。 And there is a certain charm
about finding one's self in close proximity to a dangerous being； especially
when one feels the being in question to be gentle and tame。
I was hoping the stranger might gradually fall into a confidential mood；
and in spite of my guide's winks； I turned the conversation to the subject
of highwaymen。 I need scarcely say that I spoke of them with great respect。
At that time there was a famous brigand in Andalusia； of the name of Jose…
Maria； whose exploits were on every lip。 〃Supposing I should be riding
along with Jose…Maria！〃 said I to myself。 I told all the stories I knew about
the herothey were all to his credit； indeed； and loudly expressed my
admiration of his generosity and his valour。
〃Jose…Maria is nothing but a blackguard；〃 said the stranger gravely。
〃Is he just to himself； or is this an excess of modesty？〃 I queried；
mentally； for by dint of scrutinizing my companion； I had ended by
reconciling his appearance with the description of Jose…Maria which I read
posted up on the gates of various Andalusian towns。 〃Yes； this must be he…
…fair hair； blue eyes； large mouth； good teeth； small hands； fine shirt； a
velvet jacket with silver buttons on it； white leather gaiters； and a bay
horse。 Not a doubt about it。 But his /incognito/ shall be respected！〃 We
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reached the /venta/。 It was just what he had described to me。 In other
words； the most wretched hole of its kind I had as yet beheld。 One large
apartment served as kitchen； dining…room； and sleeping