to the dishonest when they add a certain aesthetic charm to
their crooked ways. There is a proverb which says that in Ecija every
man is a thief and every woman--no better than she should be: I was not
disinclined to believe it.

I set out, guided by a sign-post, and the good road seemed to promise an
easy day. They had told me that the distance was only six leagues, and I
expected to arrive before luncheon. Aguador, fresh after his day's rest,
broke into a canter when I put him on the green plot, which the old
Spanish law orders to be left for cattle by the side of the highway. But
after three miles, without warning, the road suddenly stopped. I found
myself in an olive-grove, with only a narrow path in front of me. It
looked doubtful, but there was no one in sight and I wandered on,
trusting to luck.

Presently, in a clearing, I caught sight of three men on donkeys,
walking slowly one after the other, and I galloped after to ask my way.
The beasts were laden with undressed skins which they were taking to
Fuentes, and each man squatted cross-legged on the top of his load. The
hindermost turned right round when I asked my question and sat
unconcernedly with his back to the donkey's head. He looked about him
vaguely as though expecting the information I sought to be written on
the trunk of an olive-tree, and scratched his head.

'Well,' he said, 'I should think it was a matter of seven leagues, but
it will rain before you get there.'

'This is the right way, isn't it?'

'It may be. If it doesn't lead to Marchena it must lead somewhere else.'

There was a philosophic ring about the answer which made up for the
uncertainty. The skinner was a fat, good-humoured creature, like all
Spaniards intensely curious; and to prepare the way for inquiries,
offered a cigarette.

'But why do you come to Ecija by so roundabout a way as Carmona, and why
should you return to Seville by such a route as Marchena?'

His opinion was evidently that the shortest way between two places was
also the best. He received my explanation with incredulity and asked,
more insistently, why I went to Ecija on horseback when I might go by
train to Madrid.

'For pleasure,' said I.

'My good sir, you must have come on some errand.'

'Oh yes,' I answered, hoping to satisfy him, 'on the search for
emotion.'

At this he bellowed with laughter and turned round to tell his fellows.

'_Usted es muy guason_,' he said at length, which may be translated