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Updated: June 15, 2025
There are many who would have been afraid of treachery, but I had no fears on this point, as I did not believe that the fellow harboured the slightest ill intention towards me; I saw that he was fully convinced that I was one of the Errate, and his affection for his own race, and his hatred for the Busne, were his strongest characteristics.
I asked what induced you to come to this country you tell me the glory of God and Tebleque. Disparate! tell that to the Busne. You have good reasons for coming, no doubt, else you would not be here. Some say you are a spy of the Londone, perhaps you are; I care not. Rise, brother, and tell me whether any one is coming down the pass."
Do you believe that a lifeless stone can preserve you from the dangers which occasionally threaten your life? Antonio. Brother, I am fifty years old, and you see me standing before you in life and strength; how could that be unless the bar lachi had power? I have been soldier and contrabandista, and I have likewise slain and robbed the Busne. Myself.
Know, then, O Gentile, whether thou be from the land of the Gorgios or the Busne, that the very Gypsies who consider a ragout of snails a delicious dish will not touch an eel, because it bears resemblance to a snake; and that those who will feast on a roasted hedgehog could be induced by no money to taste a squirrel, a delicious and wholesome species of game, living on the purest and most nutritious food which the fields and forests can supply.
"There is no Calo house in this place," said Antonio; "we will therefore go to the posada of the Busne, and refresh ourselves, man and beast." We entered the kitchen and sat down at the boards, calling for wine and bread. There were two ill-looking fellows in the kitchen, smoking cigars; I said something to Antonio in the Calo language.
It was to declare his glory to the Cales and Gentiles that I came to the land of Spain. Antonio. And who sent you on this errand? Myself. You would scarcely understand me were I to inform you. Know, however, that there are many in foreign lands who lament the darkness which envelops Spain, and the scenes of cruelty, robbery, and murder which deform it. Antonio. Are they Calore or Busne? Myself.
"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 Calore; 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 Busne. We have kept together, and like true Calore, have stood back to back.
"Acquainted with her!" said Antonio. "Did not my own brother marry the black Calli, her daughter, who bore him the chabi, sixteen years ago, just before he was hanged by the Busne?" In the afternoon I was seated with the Gypsy mother in the hall, the two Callees were absent telling fortunes about the town and neighbourhood, which was their principal occupation.
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