. Their depot was at Biarritz, an aristocratic watering-place
born under the second French Empire, and not ignorant of some of the
vices of the Byzantine Empire. There are healthful breezes there, but
they do not quite sweep away the scent of frangipani. Warlike, with a
proviso, the Scot might have been designated, but he was not to be
compared with these ojaladeros; he would fight if he had a lime-lit
stage to posture upon; they would not fight at all, but they moved about
mysteriously, as if their bosoms were big with the fate of dynasties,
held hugger-mugger caucus, and were the oracles of boudoirs.

At Bayonne there was a better class of Carlist sympathizers; such of
them as were of the fighting age were there in the intervals of duty. To
a job-master's in the city by the Adour I was recommended as the most
likely place to procure a steed. At the Hotel St. Etienne, where I
stopped, I was gratified by an unexpected encounter with the genial
captain[G] (Ronald Campbell), who had brought a juicy leg of mutton at
his saddle-skirts to the relief of my household after the siege of
Paris. He went with me to the job-master's--it is as well to have a
friend with you when you do a horse-deal. I had no choice but Hobson's.
The job-master was desolated, but he had sold three animals the day
before to an English milord, a very big gentleman, and his party. He had
just one horse, but it was a beauty. The horse was trotted out. It was
well groomed--they always are, and arsenic does impart a nice gloss to
the hide--and looked imposing, a tall three-quarter-bred bay gelding.

"You'll have to take it," said the captain, "though I fear it will not
be a great catch for mountain-work. Seems to me that it stumbles--that
lie-back of the ears is vicious--ha! rears too--and by Jove! it has been
fired. No matter. Where needs must, you know, there's no alternative.
Buy it by all means."

I closed with the bargain, got a loan of a saddle, bought a pair of
jack-boots, and ordered my purchase to be brought round to the door of
the hotel within half-an-hour. I am no rough-rider, and I had not
counted on the high mettle of this, which was literally a "fiery,
untamed steed." It had been fed for the market, and had had no exercise
for two days previous. I meant to try its paces to St. Jean de Luz, and
show off before the damsels of Biarritz; but, lack-a-day! what a
declension was in store for me. It had best be given in the words of a
letter to my