As we rode along Antonio endeavoured to attract my attention by mysterious signs, but I took no notice.  Doubtless my companion was a smuggler, or a robber.  What did it matter to me?  I knew I had nothing to fear from a man who had eaten and smoked with me.

We arrived at the venta, which was one of the most wretched I had yet come across.  An old woman opened the door, and on seeing my companion, exclaimed, “Ah, Senor Don Jose!”

Don Jose frowned and raised his hand, and the old woman was silent at once.

The supper was better than I expected, and after supper Don Jose played the mandoline and sang some melancholy songs.  My guide decided to pass the night in the stable, but Don Jose and I stretched ourselves on mule cloths on the floor.

Very disagreeable itchings snatched me from my first nap, and drove me to a wooden bench outside the door.  I was about to close my eyes for the second time, when, to my surprise, I saw Antonio leading a horse.  He stopped on seeing me, and said anxiously, “Where is he?”

“In the venta; he is sleeping.  He is not afraid of the fleas.  Why are you taking away my horse?”

I then observed that, in order to prevent any noise, Antonio had carefully wrapped the animal’s feet in the remains of an old sack.

“Hush!” said Antonio.  “That man there is Jose Navarro, the most famous bandit of Andalusia.  There are two hundred ducats for whoever gives him up.  I know a post of lancers a league and a half from here, and before it is day I will bring some of them here.”

“What harm has the poor man done you that you denounce him?” said I.

“I am a poor wretch, sir!” was all Antonio could say.  “Two hundred ducats are not to be lost, especially when it is a matter of delivering the country from such vermin.”

My threats and requests were alike unavailing.  Antonio was in the saddle, he set spurs to his horse after freeing its feet from the rags, and was soon lost to sight in the darkness.

I was very much annoyed with my guide, and somewhat uneasy; but quickly making up my mind, returned to the inn, and shook Don Jose to awaken him.

“Would you be very pleased to see half a dozen lancers arrive here?” I said.

He leapt to his feet.

“Ah, your guide has betrayed me!  Your guide!  I had suspected him.  Adieu, sir.  God repay you the service I am in your debt for.  I am not quite as bad as you think.  Yes, there is still something in me deserving the pity of a gentleman.  Adieu!”

He ran to the stable, and some minutes later I heard him galloping into the fields.

As for me, I asked myself if I had been right in saving a robber, perhaps a murderer, from the gallows only because I had eaten ham and rice and smoked with him.

I think Antonio cherished a grudge against me; but, nevertheless, we parted good friends at Cordova.

II.—­My Experience with Carmen