s no Spanish passport; it appears to be
written in French."

MYSELF: I have already told you that I am a foreigner. I, of course,
carry a foreign passport.

ALCALDE: Then you mean to assert that you are not Calros Rey?

MYSELF: I never heard before of such a king, nor indeed of such a name.

ALCALDE: Hark to the fellow; he has the audacity to say that he has
never heard of Calros the pretender, who calls himself king.

MYSELF: If you mean by Calros the pretender Don Carlos, all I can reply
is that you can scarcely be serious. You might as well assert that
yonder poor fellow, my guide, whom I see you have made prisoner, is his
nephew, the infante Don Sebastian.

ALCALDE: See, you have betrayed yourself; that is the very person we
suppose him to be.

MYSELF: It is true that they are both hunchbacks. But how can I be like
Don Carlos? I have nothing the appearance of a Spaniard, and am nearly a
foot taller than the pretender.

ALCALDE: That makes no difference; you, of course, carry many waistcoats
about you, by means of which you disguise yourself, and appear tall or
low according to your pleasure.

This last was so conclusive an argument that I had of course nothing to
reply to it. "Yes, it is Calros; it is Calros," said the crowd at the
door.

"It will be as well to have these men shot instantly," continued the
alcalde; "if they are not the two pretenders, they are at any rate two
of the factious."

"I am by no means certain that they are either one or the other," said a
gruff voice. Our glances rested upon the figure who held watch at the
door. He had planted the barrel of his musket on the floor, and was
leaning his chin against the butt.

"I have been examining this man," he continued, pointing to myself, "and
listening whilst he spoke, and it appears to me that after all he may
prove an Englishman; he has their very look and voice."

Here the alcalde became violently incensed. "He is no more an Englishman
than yourself," he exclaimed; "if he were an Englishman, would he have
come in this manner, skulking across the land? Not so I trow. He would
have come in a ship."

After a fierce dispute between the alcalde and the guard, it was decided
to remove us to Corcuvion, where the head alcalde was to dispose of us
as he thought proper.

The head alcalde was a mighty liberal and a worshipper of Jeremy
Bentham. "The most universal genius which the world ever produced," he
called him. "I am most truly glad