"
And here the gallant gentleman attempted to rise, but his legs refused
to assist him, and, tumbling back against the wall, he was only able
to glare at me out of his watery eyes.
I went up to him, intending, I suppose, to punch _his_ nose, but,
suddenly changing my mind, I merely picked up my saddle and things,
then left the room with a hearty curse on Captain Cloudesley
Wriothesley, the evil genius, drunk or sober, of the colony of English
gentlemen. I was no sooner outside the door than the joy they felt at
being rid of me was expressed in loud shouts, clapping of hands, and
a general discharge of firearms into the roof.
I spread my rugs out of doors and soliloquised myself to sleep. "And
so ends," said I, fixing my somewhat drowsy eyes on the constellation
of Orion, "adventure the second, or twenty-second--little does it
matter about the exact number of them, since they all alike end in
smoke--revolver smoke--or a flourish of knives and the shaking of dust
from off my feet. And, perhaps, at this very moment Paquita, roused
from light slumbers by the droning cry of the night-watchman under her
window, puts out her arms to feel me, and sighs to find my place still
vacant. What must I say to her? That I must change my name to Ernandes
or Fernandes, or Blas or Chas, or Sandariaga, Gorostiaga, Madariaga,
or any other 'aga,' and conspire to overthrow the existing order of
things.
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