oposed to pay for the service of our guides,
it was curious to see how every rascal at the table craned forward to
watch the upshot. Don Lopez makes a pretence of leaving the payment to
Don Sanchez's generosity; and he, not behindhand in courtesy, lugs out
his purse and begs the other to pay himself. Whereupon, with more
apologies, Don Lopez empties the money on the table and carefully counts
it, and there being but about a score of gold pieces and some silver, he
shakes his head and says a few words to Don Sanchez in a very
reproachful tone of remonstrance, to which our Don replies by turning
all the trifles out of his pocket, one after the other, to prove that he
has no money.

"I thought as much," growls Jack in my ear. "A pretty nest of hornets
we're fallen into."

The company, seeing there was no more to be got out of Don Sanchez,
began to murmur and cast their eyes at us; whereupon Dawson, seeing how
the land lay, stands up and empties his pockets on the table, and I
likewise; but betwixt us there was no more than some French pennies and
a few odds and ends of no value at all. Fetching a deep sigh, Don Lopez
takes all these possessions into a heap before him, and tells Don
Sanchez that he cannot believe persons of our quality could travel with
so little, that he feels convinced Don Sanchez must have dropped a purse
on the way, and that until it is found he can on no account allow us to
leave the neighbourhood.

"This comes of being so mighty fine!" says Dawson, when Don Sanchez had
explained matters. "Had we travelled as became our condition, this
brigand would never have ensnared us hither. And if they won't believe
your story, Senor, I can't blame 'em; for I would have sworn you had a
thousand pounds to your hand."

"Do you reproach me for my generosity?" asks the Don.

"Nay, Master, I love you for being free with your money while you have
it, but 'tis a queer kind of generosity to bring us into these parts
with no means of taking us back again. Hows'ever, we'll say no more
about that if we get out of this cursed smoke-hole; and as we are like
to come off ill if these Jack-thieves keep us here a week or so and get
nothing by it, 'twill be best to tell 'em the honest truth, and acquaint
them that we are no gentle folk, but only three poor English mountebanks
brought hither on a wild goose chase."

This was a bitter pill for Don Sanchez to swallow; however, seeing no
other cure for our ills, he gulped it do