ext may go
differently. I only missed the ball through my foot slipping. Curse
boots for playing ball in, say I! Hola, Valenciano! have you never a
pair of shoes or espadrillas to lend me?"

The landlord, who acted as umpire, and who, as well as his wife and
two or three loitering peasants, was taking an intense interest in the
game, ran into the house and brought out a pair of sandals. These the
soldier tied upon his feet, in lieu of the boots to which he
attributed his defeat. Then, with renewed confidence, he took his
place opposite the wall, where the muleteer was waiting for him.

But if, as the dragoon said, an accident had lost him the first game,
it soon became evident that the superior activity and endurance of his
antagonist were equally certain to make him lose the second. The
idleness of a garrison life, fat feeding, and soft lying, had
disqualified the soldier to compete for any length of time with a man
like the Navarrese, accustomed to the severest hardships, whose most
luxurious meal was a handful of boiled beans, his softest couch a
bundle of straw or the packsaddles of his mules. Constant exposure and
unceasing toil had given the muleteer the same insensibility to
fatigue attributed to certain savage tribes. Whilst his antagonist,
with inflamed features and short-drawn breath, and reeking with
perspiration, was toiling after the ball, the Navarrese went through
the same, or a greater amount of exertion, without the least
appearance of distress. Not a bead of moisture upon his face, nor a
pant from his broad, well-opened chest, gave token of the slightest
inconvenience from the violent exercise he was going through. On the
contrary, as he went on and got warm in the harness, he seemed to play
better, to run faster, to catch the ball with greater address, and
strike it with more force. Sometimes he would be standing close to the
wall, when a mighty blow from the strong arm of the dragoon sent the
ball scores of yards in his rear. It seemed impossible that he should
arrive soon enough to strike it. But before it had time to rebound, he
was behind it, and by a blow of his horny palm, less forcible perhaps,
but more dexterously applied than the one his opponent had given, he
sent it careering back to the wall with greater swiftness than it had
left it. He rarely struck the ball in the air, even when the
opportunity offered, but allowed it to rebound--a less dashing, but a
surer game than he would perhaps