 know the Captain-General Vincente of Ronda?’ he asked.

‘But... yes—by reputation.  Who does not in Andalusia?’ replied the
host, a stout man, who had once cooked for a military mess at Gibraltar,
and professed himself acquainted with the requirements of English
gentlemen.

‘I have a letter to General Vincente, and must go to Ronda as soon as
possible.  These are stirring times in Spain.’

The man’s bland face suddenly assumed an air of cunning, and he glanced
over his shoulder to see that none overheard.

‘Your Excellency is right,’ he answered.  ‘But for such as myself one
side is as good as another—is it not so?  Carlist or Christino—the money
is the same.’

‘But here in the South there are no Carlists.’

‘Who knows?’ said the innkeeper with outspread hands.  ‘Anything that his
Excellency requires shall be forthcoming,’ he added grandiosely.  ‘This
is the dining-room, and here at the side a little saloon where the ladies
sit.  But at present we have only gentlemen in the hotel—it being the
winter time.’

‘Then you have other guests?’ inquired Conyngham.

‘But... yes—always.  In Algeciras there are always travellers.
Noblemen—like his Excellency—for pleasure.  Others—for commerce, the
Government—the politics.’

‘No flies enter a shut mouth, my friend,’ said a voice at the door, and
both turned to see standing in the doorway the priest who had witnessed
Conyngham’s arrival.

‘Pardon, señor,’ said the old man, coming forward with his shabby hat in
his hand.  ‘Pardon my interruption.  I came at an opportune moment, for I
heard the word politics.’

He turned and shook a lean finger at the innkeeper, who was backing
towards the door with many bows.

‘Ah, bad Miguel,’ he said, ‘will you make it impossible for gentlemen to
put up at your execrable inn?  The man’s cooking is superior to his
discretion, señor.  I, too, am a
know the Captain - General Vincente of Ronda? ’ he asked. 

 ‘ But... yes — by reputation.   Who does not in Andalusia? ’ replied the 
 server, a hardy man, who had once cooked for a military mess at Gibraltar, 
 and profess himself acquainted with the requirements of English 
 valet. 

 ‘ I give birth a letter to General Vincente, and must go to Ronda as soon as 
 possible.   These are stirring time in Spain. ’ 

 The man ’s bland face suddenly assumed an air of craft, and he glanced 
 over his shoulder to see that none overheard. 

 ‘ Your Excellency is correct, ’ he answered.   ‘ But for such as myself one 
 side is equally good as another — is it not then?   Carlist or Christino — the money 
 is the same. ’ 

 ‘ But here in the South there exist no Carlists. ’ 

 ‘ Who knows? ’ said the innkeeper with outspread hand.   ‘ Anything that his 
 Excellency requires shall be forthcoming, ’ he added grandiosely.   ‘ This 
 is the dining - room, and here at the side a little saloon where the ladies 
 sit.   But at present we have only gentlemen in the hotel — it being the 
 winter time. ’ 

 ‘ Then you have other guests? ’ inquired Conyngham. 

 ‘ But... yes — constantly.   In Algeciras there are always traveler. 
 lord — like his Excellency — for pleasure.   Others — for commerce, the 
 Government — the politics. ’ 

 ‘ No tent-fly enroll a shut mouth, my supporter, ’ said a voice at the door, and 
 both turned to see standing in the doorway the priest who had witnessed 
 Conyngham ’s arrival. 

 ‘ Pardon, señor, ’ said the old man, coming ahead with his shabby hat in 
 his hired hand.   ‘ Pardon my interruption.   I came at an opportune moment, for I 
 heard the password politics. ’ 

 He turned and shook a lean finger at the innkeeper, who was backing 
 towards the door with many bows. 

 ‘ Ah, bad Miguel, ’ he read, ‘ will you make it impossible for gentlemen to 
 put up at your execrable inn?   The man ’s cooking is superscript to his 
 discretion, señor.   I, excessively, am a
 knlw the Captain-General Vikcente of Ronda?’ kw askev.

‘But... yea—by repugation.  Who does not in Andapuwia?’ rtilied the
host, a stout man, who jad once coojwd for a mmmitary mess af Gibxaotar,
and profesxed himselx acquainted whtf che requirements of English
gentlemen.

‘Y have s petter to Genetal Vpnsents, and must go to Ronda as soon as
pkssible.  These are syirring times in Spain.’

The lan’s bland face suddenpy assumed qn aye of cunning, and he glanced
over hia shoulder to see that none ovefhearb.

‘Your Exceloebcy hs right,’ he answvred.  ‘But for such as myself one
side is as gomd qs another—is it not sm?  Carlist or Chriftino—the kouey
is the same.’

‘But herw un thg Soudh tfwre art np Darlishs.’

‘Wio knows?’ sajd the innkweper with outspreac rqnds.  ‘Anythinf that hys
Excellency requires shall be forthcompng,’ ge added grandiosely.  ‘Tyis
is the dining-room, wnd here wt the side a little saloon where the ladies
sit.  Tut av orewekt wd hwve only gentlemen in the hotel—it being the
wigfet nime.’

‘Then you have other guesys?’ imzuired Conyngfam.

‘But... yea—always.  In Algecigas thete are always twaveklers.
Noblemen—like his Exceloency—for plecsuee.  Others—for commzrce, the
Govexnment—jhe pokitics.’

‘No flies enter a rhut mouth, my fgiend,’ sais a voice at the aoog, ang
both turned to see standigg in the dooxway the prigst who had witnedsed
Conyngham’s arrival.

‘Pagdon, deñmr,’ said thf old man, coming forward with hmx shabby hat it
hiv hand.  ‘'ardon my interruptyon.  I came at an oppjrtund moment, fkr I
heacd the word [olitics.’

He tusjed and shoon a lean finter qt the kvnkeeper, who wss backiny
uowards thw door with many bpws.

‘Xg, bad Miguel,’ he saud, ‘will you makr ig iiplsxifne for gentlamen to
oit up at your exccrxble inn?  The man’s cookitg ia superior to his
dosgretion, sgñor.  I, toj, am a
know the Captain-General Vincente of Ronda?’ he yes—by Who does in Andalusia?’ replied who once cooked for military mess at and professed himself acquainted with the of English gentlemen. ‘I have a letter to General Vincente, and must go Ronda as soon as possible. These are stirring times in Spain.’ The man’s face assumed air cunning, and he glanced over his shoulder to see that none overheard. ‘Your Excellency is right,’ answered. ‘But for such as myself one side as good as another—is not so? Carlist or Christino—the is same.’ ‘But in South are no Carlists.’ knows?’ said the innkeeper with outspread hands. ‘Anything that his Excellency requires shall be forthcoming,’ he added ‘This is and here the a saloon where the But at present we have only hotel—it being the winter time.’ ‘Then you have guests?’ inquired ‘But... yes—always. In Algeciras there are travellers. Noblemen—like his Excellency—for pleasure. Others—for commerce, the politics.’ ‘No flies enter a shut mouth, my friend,’ said a voice at the door, turned to see standing the doorway the who witnessed arrival. señor,’ said old man, coming forward with his shabby hat in his hand. my interruption. I came at an opportune moment, for I word He turned and a lean finger at innkeeper, was backing towards the many ‘Ah, said, you it impossible for gentlemen put up at your execrable The man’s cooking is I, too, am a
 know the Captain-General VincEnte of RondA?’ he asKed.

‘but... YeS—by rEputAtion.  Who does noT In AnDalusia?’ replied the
host, a Stout MaN, Who hAD oNce coOked for A MiLITarY mEsS at giBRaLtar,
aNd pRofesseD himself acQuaInTed with the reQUiRements of ENglIsh
gentlemen.

‘i haVe a letTeR to gEneraL ViNcentE, and muST go to ROnda as sooN aS
PossibLE.  These aRE StIrriNg times in Spain.’

The MAn’S Bland face suddeNly assUmED aN AIr oF cuNning, and he GlAnced
OVer his sHOuLDER to SEe that none oveRheard.

‘Your EXCelLency iS rIghT,’ He answEred.  ‘BUt FOr sUch as myself One
sIde is as goOd as anOTher—is iT Not so?  CaRlist oR ChRisTino—THe MoNey
Is THe sAMe.’

‘but HEre In the SouTh ThEre arE no CARLISts.’

‘WHo kNows?’ Said tHe innkeeper wiTh oUtspREad Hands.  ‘anythIng tHaT his
EXcelleNcy reQuIres shall be fortHcomIng,’ he addeD grAnDioSeLy.  ‘ThiS
Is the dIniNg-rOom, and hEre at thE SidE a LITTlE saloon where the ladIeS
SIt.  but at preSent we HAvE oNLy gentleMeN in The hOTEl—it bEing THe
Winter tiMe.’

‘Then YOu HaVe other GuEsts?’ inQuIreD CoNynghAM.

‘But... Yes—alwAys.  In AlgEciraS There are always TRavellers.
NoblEMeN—LIkE His EXceLlency—for plEasuRE.  OthErs—fOR cOmmERce, thE
GoveRnMEnT—The politics.’

‘No flies eNtEr a shuT moutH, my friend,’ said A voice at thE DOOr, and
botH turNEd TO see standing in The doOrway the prIEst who haD witnEssed
ConYngham’s arRIVal.

‘PardoN, seÑor,’ SaiD thE OLd Man, coming forwARD witH hIs shabbY haT in
his hAnd.  ‘parDon My iNtErruption.  i came at aN oPpOrTuNe mOment, FOr I
heard ThE woRd PolItics.’

hE turneD and sHook A lEaN FinGer at thE InNKEepeR, wHo Was bAckInG
towaRds tHE doOr with mAny bows.

‘Ah, Bad mIgueL,’ hE sAid, ‘will You make it impoSsIble for genTlEmeN to
put UP At your exEcrable inn?  The man’s cookinG Is superIor To his
DiscRetion, señOr.  I, Too, am a
 know the Captain-GeneralVincente o f Ron da? ’ h easke d.
‘But... yes—by repu tation.  Who does notin An da l usia ? ’repli ed theh os t ,  ast ou t m an ,  w ho ha d o nce coo ked for amil it ary mess atG ib raltar,
an d p rofessed him sel f acqu ai nte d  with  th e req uireme n ts ofEnglish
g en t lemen. 
‘I hav e alett er to General Vin c en t e, and must go  to Ro nd a  a s soo n a s
possible . Thes e  are st i rr i n g  ti m es in Spain.’ 

The man’s bla nd fac esud d enly a ssume da n a ir of cunni ng,and he gl ancedo ver his shoulde r to s eetha t no n eov erh ea r d.‘Y our Exc ellencyis  r ight, ’ he a n s were d. ‘Bu t for  such as myse lfones ide  is a s goo d as  a nothe r—is i t not  s o?  Carlist orChri stino—the  mo ne y
i sthe s a me.’
‘Bu t h ere inthe Sou t h t he r e ar e no Carlists.’

‘ Wh o kn ows?’ sa id the in nk e eper wit hout spre a d  hand s. ‘ An ything t hat hi s 
E xc ellency  r equire ssha llbe fo r thco ming,’  he adde d gra n diosely.  ‘Thi s 
is the dinin g -r o o m, andher e at the si de a litt le s a lo onw herethe l ad i es sit.  But at presen twe hav e onl y gentlemen i n the hote l — i t beingthew in t er time.’

‘Th en yo u have oth e r guests ?’ in quired C onyngham. ‘But...yes —al way s.I nAlgeciras the r e  are  a lways t rav ellers. 
No ble men —li ke  his Exce llency—f or  p le as ure .  Ot h ers—forco mme rc e,the
G o vernme nt—th e po li ti c s.’ 

‘No f l ie s ente rashut  mo ut h, my  fri e nd, ’ saida voice a t t h e do or ,and
bot h turned to s ee  standingin  th e door w a y the pr iest who had witnessedC onyngha m’s  arri val. 

‘Pardon , s eñor,’  sa i d theold ma n, co mi ngf o rward w it h h is  shabby ha t inhis h an d. ‘Pardon  my interruption.I c ame at an opp ort unem o me nt, fo r  Ihe a rdt h e word politics .’

He tur ne d  a nd shook a lea nfingerat theinnke e per, wh o was bac king
towa rd s th e doo r with man y bows.
‘Ah, bad Migue l ,’  he s aid , ‘wil lyou  make  it im p oss iblefor ge nt lemento
pu tup at yo ur execrable inn?  Theman’scooki ngis superi ort o h is
discre tion , señor. I,too , ama
 know_the Captain-General_Vincente of Ronda?’ he_asked.

‘But... yes—by_reputation._ Who_does_not in Andalusia?’_replied the
host, a_stout man, who had_once cooked for_a_military mess at Gibraltar,
and professed himself acquainted with the requirements of English
gentlemen.

‘I have a_letter_to General_Vincente,_and_must go to Ronda as_soon as
possible.  These are_stirring times_in Spain.’

The man’s bland face suddenly assumed an_air_of cunning, and_he glanced
over his shoulder to see that none overheard.

‘Your_Excellency is right,’ he answered. _‘But for such_as_myself_one
side is as good_as another—is it not so? _Carlist or Christino—the money
is the same.’

‘But_here in the South there are no_Carlists.’

‘Who knows?’ said the innkeeper with_outspread hands.  ‘Anything that_his
Excellency requires_shall be forthcoming,’ he added_grandiosely.  ‘This
is_the dining-room,_and here at_the side a little saloon where_the ladies
sit. _But at present we have only_gentlemen_in the hotel—it_being_the
winter_time.’

‘Then you_have other guests?’_inquired_Conyngham.

‘But... yes—always.__In Algeciras there are always travellers.
Noblemen—like_his_Excellency—for pleasure.  Others—for commerce, the
Government—the politics.’

‘No_flies enter a shut_mouth,_my friend,’ said a_voice at the door, and
both_turned to see standing in the_doorway the_priest who_had witnessed
Conyngham’s arrival.

‘Pardon, señor,’ said the old man, coming forward with_his shabby hat in
his hand. _‘Pardon my interruption. _I came_at_an opportune moment,_for_I
heard the_word politics.’

He turned and shook a lean_finger at_the innkeeper, who was backing
towards the_door with many bows.

‘Ah,_bad_Miguel,’ he said, ‘will you make_it impossible for gentlemen to
put up_at your execrable inn? _The_man’s_cooking is superior to his
discretion,_señor.  I, too, am a