Hour succeeded hour, and still we sat crouching over the brasero, from which, by this time, all warmth had departed; the glow had long since disappeared, and only a few dying sparks were to be distinguished. The room or hall was now involved in utter darkness; the women were motionless and still; I shivered and began to feel uneasy. “Will Antonio be here to-night?” at length I demanded. “_No tenga usted cuidao_, my London Caloro,” said the Gypsy mother, in an unearthly tone; “Pepindorio {93a} has been here some time.” I was about to rise from my seat and attempt to escape from the house, when I felt a hand laid upon my shoulder, and in a moment I heard the voice of Antonio. “Be not afraid, ’tis I, brother; we will have a light anon, and then supper.” The supper was rude enough, consisting of bread, cheese, and olives. Antonio, however, produced a leathern bottle of excellent wine; we despatched these viands by the light of an earthen lamp which was placed upon the floor. “Now,” said Antonio to the youngest female, “bring me the pajandi, and I will sing a gachapla.” The girl brought the guitar, which, with some difficulty, the Gypsy tuned, and then strumming it vigorously, he sang: “I stole a plump and bonny fowl, But ere I well had dined, The master came with scowl and growl, And me would captive bind. “My hat and mantle off I threw, And scour’d across the lea, Then cried the beng {93b} with loud halloo, Where does the Gypsy flee?” He continued playing and singing for a considerable time, the two younger females dancing in the meanwhile with unwearied diligence, whilst the aged mother occasionally snapped her fingers or beat time on the ground with her stick. At last Antonio suddenly laid down the instrument:— “I see the London Caloro is weary; enough, enough, to-morrow more thereof—we will now to the charipé (_bed_).” “With all my heart,” said I; “where are we to sleep?” “In the stable,” said he, “in the manger; however cold the stable may be we shall be warm enough in the bufa.” CHAPTER X The Gypsy’s Granddaughter—Proposed Marriage—The Algnazil—The Assault—Speedy Trot—Arrival at Trujillo—Night and Rain—The Forest—The Bivouac—Mount and Away!—Jaraicejo—The National—The Cavalier Balmerson—Among the Thickets—Serious Discourse—What is Truth?—Unexpected Intelligence. We remained three days at the Gypsies’ house, Antonio departing early every morning, on his mule, and returning late at night. The house was large and ruinous, the only habitable part of it, with the exception of the stable, being the hall, where we had supped, and there the Gypsy females slept at night, on some mats and mattresses in a corner. “A strange house is this,” said I to Antonio, one morning as he was on the point of saddling his mule and departing, as I supposed, on the affairs of Egypt; “a strange house and strange people; that Gypsy grandmother has all the appearance of a sowanee (_sorceress_).”