“Oh, sir,” I said, oppressed with my despair, “I pray you to consider of my situation. Bear me with you to this duke you mention, and half of my first year’s emolument shall be yours.” “Emolument! Why, my young companion, this duke is about as rich as yourself. Still, it is an offer that betrays an honourable disposition; and not being likely to receive anything more substantial in your present pass, I dare say it behoves me to take it, and prove myself not to be covetous. But all the same, Master Miguel, I could have wished you had had a little something to eke out your charges by the way, for I have noticed that living is very expensive in this part of the world.” In this manner I sealed the momentous compact to enter the service of the Englishman. You will readily conceive, good reader, that in this matter the choice was none of my own. Indeed, had I not gone forth in his company I might never have come to the duke at all. And at least, although he was not of our peninsula, he was a man of birth, with a fine genius for the sword, and a deep acquaintance with the world. Yet I did not like to think what my father would have suffered could he have known of my case, and how such blood as his had come to be the body servant of one of a foreign nationality. Shortly after this affair was settled we arranged to go upon our road, and I went forth to the stable to put the saddle on Babieca. As I made to do this, the Englishman called out to me in a loud and insolent tone such as would not have come amiss to a groom or a varlet,-- “Miguel, you had best put the saddle on my own horse also. Beware he does not bite you; he is as rude as a lion to all except his personal friends.” Upon the instant the blood sang in my ears to hear a stranger apply my baptismal name with such familiarity, and to such a tune, as though I were a menial. Indeed, it galled me so, that I drew back to remonstrate with him upon the matter, in order that a wrong impression of our relationship might not get abroad. But even in this pass I was able to reflect and was visited by wisdom. For what is manhood, and what is blood, and what is dignity that they must be asserted on the smallest occasion? “Knaves protest of their virtue too much, low persons of their condition” was a saying of Don Ygnacio’s. Yet to prove that my thoughts had run in the mind of another, no sooner had I come to the stable and had taken up the saddle of Babieca, perhaps with my head somewhat high and a proud consideration in my mien, than there came a rustle of the straw, and upon looking up I saw at my side that little wench who had already stood so much my friend. “Will the gentleman señor let me do it?” she asked shyly. “I can see he is of that condition that ought never to saddle horses.” These words were spoken with such soft earnestness that quite a gentle beauty was thrown about this rustic creature.