Adventure stories; British -- Spain -- Fiction; Swordsmen -- Fiction
Doubtless it were well to state that the landlord of the venta was
hardly a free agent in regard to the horses. Sir Richard Pendragon
threatened him with such atrocious penalties if the three animals were
to go amiss within the next six months, even as to a single nail of
their shoes or a minor hair of their tails, that the cheeks of the poor
man were blanched with terror.
It was not until we had become privy to further whims of the
Englishman’s brain that we got upon our road. For early in the morning
as we were about to go forth, a cart used for the conveyance of water
was seen to be standing at the inn door. Skins hung from its sides, and
it was drawn by four sturdy mules. No water was contained in the cart,
but in lieu of it were three long poles such as are affected upon a
journey by the country people. Sir Richard gave one of these staves to
each of us, took one himself, and starting the mules upon their road,
led them out of the town in the direction of Toledo.
To all my inquiries as to what possible use there could be for an empty
water-cart and four sturdy mules I received the most unsatisfactory
answers. The Count of Nullepart still professed himself as wholly
in the hands of his commander. And he assured me solemnly that his
experience of Sir Richard Pendragon had taught him that whatever
were the actions of that singular man they were the fruits of a rare
intelligence and were greatly to be admired by those who had reverence
for the things of the mind.
As you will conceive, good reader, to this flattery Sir Richard
Pendragon--trudging through the dust and the mire with his long pole
in true peasant fashion, and wearing a great slouch hat and brass
rings in his ears, so that he looked more than ever like a robber,
and continually exhorting his four mules with barbarous oaths--gave
an assent that was most ready and gracious. He took occasion to pay
the Count of Nullepart a compliment of his own upon the power of his
philosophy and his old-fashioned respect for high intelligence, “the
which he was sore to observe in these days did not always obtain with
springald youth.” And the courteous gravity with which this English
barbarian assured the Count of Nullepart that he loved him for his
liberal opinions made me furious.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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