"'Madre de Dios! what an officer!' 'O! Santos! that a British officer!' 'Morte de Dios! he a cavalier!' were the exclamations in every varying tone. I was led along the saloon; the music ceased in the gilded gallery; the dancers paused, mingled, and crowded about us; then reflecting that I had come straight from the camp and field, where my comrades were facing danger and death for these same Spaniards, I thought the exhibition made of me by the Major Don José Gonzalez, of the regiment of Leon, alike scurvy and ungrateful. Our division of the army had not received a farthing of pay for six months at that time, and many a brave fellow fell at Vittoria and the Pyrenees without receiving his hard-won arrears, which, more than probably, his relations never obtained either.
"I was in the same plight in which I had marched from Aranjuez; my wings worn to black wire; coat purple, and patched with grey and blue at the elbows; my Tartan trews a mass of darns; scabbard, as I have said, six inches too short for the claymore; shoes all gone at the toes; and my last shirt all gone too, save the wrists and collar. But I was weatherbeaten as a smuggler; and I looked more like a soldier than the pomatumed Dons of the Spanish line, or the Cavaliers of Calatrava, who turned up their mustaches and muttered 'basta!' as I passed them, to where the Marquis stood, with a lady leaning on his arm.
"Don Christoval, of Santa Cruz, was a tall, gaunt man, with a long Castilian visage, black lack-lustre eyes, and a solemn air of lofty pomposity. His mustaches were curled up to his ears. He had an enormous basket-hilted toledo depending from a sling-belt, and carried his handkerchief stuffed into the hilt thereof. He wore the uniform of a Spanish lieutenant-general, and had various little gold and silver ornaments sparkling on his breast. I was aware that a graceful and bright-eyed young girl, in white lace, with her head wreathed by a superb tiara of brilliants, leaned on his arm; but so solemnly severe was the brow of the Marquis and so brief his greeting, though in the old style of Castilian courtesy, that he riveted my whole attention. Besides, I was not a little indignant at the unceremonious manner in which I had been brought before him, and made a spectacle to his guests.