"But I was grievously mistaken, as I might have augured from the manner of the town-major, who curled his mustaches, and shifted from one foot to the other, like a man who has something unpleasant to say, but dares not.
"While the occupants of the waggons were being conveyed to hospital by fatigue-parties of Spanish soldiers, and my guard joined a detachment of convalescents, who, under another officer, were on their march towards the castle of Belem. I soon became aware that I was an object of marked attention to the denizens of Ciudad Real. A vast crowd had gathered in the Plaza, and I saw many men, particularly paisanos, gesticulating violently, and pointing to me, while the muttering gradually rose into shouts of 'Maldetto! mueran los Inglesos! Perro! ladrone! bandido!'
"'What the devil is the meaning of all this?' thought I; and indignantly pushed my horse right through them. On this the cries redoubled, and the crowd increased so fast, that I was fain to ride at a trot towards the house of a guantero (a maker of those gloves for which Ciudad Real is famous throughout Spain), on whom I had been billeted. There I found Darby Crogan awaiting me, breathless, exasperated, and carbine in hand, for he, too, had been followed in the same manner by a mob, who shouted, yelled, threw mud, stones, and rotten melons, with every missile which the uncleaned streets so readily afforded. We were perfectly at a loss to comprehend the cause of treatment so unusual and so unmerited.
"'El guantero, our patron, is as cross as two sticks, or a bag of ould nails, devil mend him! and unless your honour has a coin about you, it's but a cowld supper we'll have,' said Crogan, as we entered the sala, or principal apartment of the house.
"'I have not had a peseta since we left Mora,' said I; 'but here is the patron at supper, on a cold fowl, too! we are just in time.'
"'Sure he'll ask us to ate wid him--Och! for the smallest taste in life!' sighed poor Darby, for our food had been principally roasted castanos during the two previous days, so miserably was the Spanish commissariat conducted. The patron was certainly at supper; but, instead of welcoming us to his house as the deliverers of Spain, who had driven the usurper from Torres Vedras to the Douro, from the Douro to the Ebro, and from thence towards the Pyrenees, he barely bestowed a bow upon us, and desired his servant to conduct me to one room and Crogan to another. Amazed at the coldness of this reception within, which corresponded so exactly with the ungenerous treatment of the mob without, a storm of indignation gathered in my heart; but being aware that a strong Spanish garrison occupied the citadel, and that the Dons were lads who did not stand on trifles, I pocketed my wrath and turned away, resolving on the morrow to discover Donna Emerenciana and la nina Estella.