“I bear no grudges, not I,” says Dawson, when Don Sanchez gave him the English of this.  “If he live, let his nose be set; and if dead, let him be buried decently in a churchyard.  But hark ye, Senor, lest we fall out again and come out worse the next bout, do pray ask his worship if we may not be accommodated with a guide to take us on our way at once.  We have yet two hours of daylight before us, there’s not a cloud in the sky, and with such a moon as we had the night before last, we may get on well enough.”

Poor Moll, who was all of a shake with the terror of another catastrophe, added her prayers to Dawson’s, and Don Sanchez with a profusion of civilities laid the proposal before Don Lopez, who, though professing the utmost regret to lose us so soon, consented to gratify our wish, adding that his mules were so well accustomed to the road that they could make the journey as well in the dark as in broad day.

“Well, then,” says Dawson, when this was told us, “let us settle the business at once, and be off.”

And now, when Don Sanchez proposed to pay for the service of our guides, it was curious to see how every rascal at the table craned forward to watch the upshot.  Don Lopez makes a pretence of leaving the payment to Don Sanchez’s generosity; and he, not behindhand in courtesy, lugs out his purse and begs the other to pay himself.  Whereupon, with more apologies, Don Lopez empties the money on the table and carefully counts it, and there being but about a score of gold pieces and some silver, he shakes his head and says a few words to Don Sanchez in a very reproachful tone of remonstrance, to which our Don replies by turning all the trifles out of his pocket, one after the other, to prove that he has no money.

“I thought as much,” growls Jack in my ear.  “A pretty nest of hornets we’re fallen into.”

The company, seeing there was no more to be got out of Don Sanchez, began to murmur and cast their eyes at us; whereupon Dawson, seeing how the land lay, stands up and empties his pockets on the table, and I likewise; but betwixt us there was no more than some French pennies and a few odds and ends of no value at all.  Fetching a deep sigh, Don Lopez takes all these possessions into a heap before him, and tells Don Sanchez that he cannot believe persons of our quality could travel with so little, that he feels convinced Don Sanchez must have dropped a purse on the way, and that until it is found he can on no account allow us to leave the neighbourhood.

“This comes of being so mighty fine!” says Dawson, when Don Sanchez had explained matters.  “Had we travelled as became our condition, this brigand would never have ensnared us hither.  And if they won’t believe your story, Senor, I can’t blame ’em; for I would have sworn you had a thousand pounds to your hand.”

“Do you reproach me for my generosity?” asks the Don.