"How?" "I read in them more of hatred and malice, than of horror for the event, or natural grief for his brother's fate." "You think so?" "I am sure of it!" "Well, the man is a Spaniard." "And being so, will not let us off easily." "We shall have a message from him in the morning, challenging us both to fight, you think?" said I. "Not at all; your Spaniards don't fight duels; he will lay some desperate snare for us between this and San Roque; so, depend upon it, the sooner we make ourselves scarce in Seville the better. But here is the hotel--for Heaven's sake let us have some iced champagne, for this horrid business has made me as thirsty as if I had crossed a whole county in the hottest hunting season." I must own that though I was pretty well assured of the truth of Jack's surmises and suspicions, fear for my own safety was quite a secondary emotion to my sincere sorrow for the bereavement we had occasioned to poor old Donna Dominga and the lively Paulina. As for that stormy fellow Joaquim, I felt no compunction for him in the least; his grief was too noisy, and his sudden hostility too deep to leave much room for natural sorrow; and so, while surmising, considering, revolving, and talking the matter threadbare, we finished several bottles of champagne; through the medium of these we easily came to the conclusion that we were the most injured parties; that we had been grossly insulted somehow, over night--that the usual satisfaction was necessary; and then we retired to bed in a state of just and proper indignation at the malevolent threats of Don Joaquim and his friends, to whom the affair formed a notable subject for discussion at those morning meetings, which are so dearly prized by the Spaniards, who then debate everything from a ballet girl's ancle to a rising in Catalonia; and for these gossips, the place of rendezvous in Seville is the Plaza de San Domingo. CHAPTER X. DON FABRIQUE. We were awake betimes in the morning, and breakfasted early, in the true Spanish style, on good stiff chocolate with fried eggs, purple wine, and snow-white bread; but no hostile message came from Don Joaquim. The hours stole on, and the sunlit streets threw the shadows of their picturesque façades against each other. The events of the last night, and their probable consequences, had given us a decided distaste for prowling about the streets of Seville. We were both somewhat thoughtful, and said little, or conferred only on the nearest route by which we could reach Gibraltar, in coming from which, we had made somewhat of a détour; and Jack hinted that we should probably have some more brawls with alcaldes, rows at posadas, skirmishes with banditos, and other pleasant adventures, before we reported ourselves "as just arrived" at head quarters. "A letter for El Señor Capitano Don Ricardo," said the waiter, approaching. "A letter for you, Dick," said Slingsby. "So it has come at last," said I, breaking the seal.