(2/3) The Teeth of the Gale Read Online Free PDF Page A

satisfaction. "Heaven only knows what we would have done if that girth had broken somewhere on the mountains between Pedralba and Ponferrada."
    At our little inn they had a great dish of stewed hare waiting for us—a far better meal than our midday bacon and eggs.
    While we were eating in the dimly lit downstairs room, the only one the place boasted, I overheard some inquiry taking place at the front door, and craning so as to see past the back of the fat innkeeper who stood there, I caught sight of my small man from Salamanca, apparently putting questions to the posadero.
    This seemed a perfect moment to take the bull by the horns—if bull there were—so, rising from the table, I walked to the entrance as if wishful to take a breath of air. Then, appearing to observe the small man for the first time, I gave a great start of assumed wonder, and cried out, "Why, señor, what a pleasant surprise! How good to encounter a familiar face in a strange town! My dear friend, I have seen you so
often,
week after week, month after month, in the streets near the University in Salamanca that I feel you are, indeed, quite a friend! Will you not come in and take a glass of wine with me? It is such a joy to meet an acquaintance when far from home!"
    The small man seemed startled out of his wits, and gaped at me, not in the least gratified at my recognition of him.
    "Er—ha—hum—I fear I don't understand you, my young señor. Know you? I've never laid eyes on you in my entire life!"
    "Oh, señor, how can you say such a thing? When I have so often seen you looking at me! Do you not come from Salamanca?"
    "Why—yes—but—"
    "Then what can you be doing in Zamora?"
    At this he looked very put about. "May the foul fiend fly away with you!" he burst out crossly. "What affair is that of yours? I have a right to be in Zamora if I please! My—er—my sister lives here!"
    "But you were asking, señor," said the innkeeper patiently, "you were inquiring if a certain young gentleman were staying here—was
this
the young gentleman you had in mind? You were telling me that he—"
    "No, no, no, Devil take you, and him, this isn't the one. This isn't he at all. A—a tall big-built black-haired man—I was about to say—with a scar on his cheek—"
    Outside the inn doorway there was a lantern suspended, and, now that my eyes had grown used to its dim glow, I could see that the Salamanca man had two companions, who loitered in the shadow just beyond the first circle of light. The smaller one I recognized at once by her movements—it was the child from the saddler's shop, dancing up and down, dragging and twisting her companion's arm. And he, from his bulk, must be her fat father.
    The child knew me directly. I saw her intent little face look up, her eyes flicker, her hand move to the neck of her dress, as if she expected me to ask for the leather circlet back.
    "Would you wish to come in and wait, in case the señor you are looking for comes later?" suggested the landlord.
    "No, no, no!" cried the other man again. "How do I know that he is not at some other posada—I must be on my way without delay—"
    "Can I have his name—or yours—so that a message may be left?"
    But, whisking his companions away from the circle of lamplight, the small man departed at speed. I returned more slowly to the table and my unfinished plate of hare stew.
    Pedro made no comment at the time, nor did I. But, later, when we were abed—the small bare bedchamber had but one couch in it, a big sagging one with a tester and a flock mattress which we had to share (it was damp and soggy as a tidal marsh)—"Well," whispered Pedro, "I always say that it is an advantage to know your enemy."
    "Ay—and for
him
to know
us.
"
    "We had better set off before dawn."
    "I am of your opinion."
    Accordingly we were up and stirring, as on the previous day, long before daylight, had drunk a cup of greasy chocolate, paid our reckoning, and saddled our beasts before anybody else was