In truth, your worship, this is a fine horse; I must look at his teeth.” I looked at the corporal—his nose and eyes were in the horse’s mouth: the rest of the party, who might amount to six or seven, were not less busily engaged. One was examining his fore feet, another his hind; one fellow was pulling at his tail with all his might, while another pinched the windpipe, for the purpose of discovering whether the animal was at all touched there. At last, perceiving that the corporal was about to remove the saddle, that he might examine the back of the animal, I exclaimed— “Stay, ye _chabés_ of Egypt, ye forget that ye are _hundunares_, {304c} and are no longer _paruguing grastes_ in the _chardí_.” The corporal at these words turned his face full upon me, and so did all the rest. Yes, sure enough, there were the countenances of Egypt, and the fixed filmy stare of eye. We continued looking at each other for a minute at least, when the corporal, a villanous-looking fellow, at last said, in the richest gypsy whine imaginable, “The _erray_ knows us, the poor _Caloré_! And he an Englishman! _Bullati_! I should not have thought that there was e’er a _Busnó_ would know us in these parts, where _Gitanos_ are never seen. Yes, your worship is right; we are all here of the blood of the _Caloré_. We are from _Melegrana_, your worship; they took us from thence and sent us to the wars. Your worship is right; the sight of that horse made us believe we were at home again in the _mercado_ of Granada; he is a countryman of ours, a real _Andalou_. _Por dios_, your worship, sell us that horse; we are poor _Caloré_, but we can buy him.” “You forget that you are soldiers,” said I. “How should you buy my horse?” “We are soldiers, your worship,” said the corporal, “but we are still _Caloré_. We buy and sell _bestis_; the captain of our troop is in league with us. We have been to the wars, but not to fight; we left that to the _Busné_. We have kept together, and, like true _Caloré_, have stood back to back. We have made money in the wars, your worship. _No tenga usted cuidao_. {305a} We can buy your horse.” Here he pulled out a purse, which contained at least ten _ounces_ {305b} of gold. “If I were willing to sell,” I replied, “what would you give me for that horse?” “Then your worship wishes to sell your horse—that alters the matter. We will give ten dollars for your worship’s horse. He is good for nothing.” “How is this?” said I. “You this moment told me he was a fine horse—an Andalusian, and a countryman of yours.” “No, _señor_! we did not say that he was an _Andalou_. We said he was an _Estremou_, and the worst of his kind. He is eighteen years old, your worship, short-winded and galled.” “I do not wish to sell my horse,” said I; “quite the contrary. I had rather buy than sell.” “Your worship does not wish to sell your horse,” said the gypsy. “Stay, your worship; we will give sixty dollars for your worship’s horse.”