the way down amongst the ruins, towards one of the dens formerly occupied by the wild beasts, and disclosed to us a set of beings scarcely less savage. The sombre walls of the gloomy abode were illumined by a fire the smoke from which escaped through a deep fissure in the mossy roof; whilst the flickering flames threw a blood-red glare on the bronzed features of a group of children, of two men, and a decrepit old hag, who appeared busily engaged in some culinary preparations.

"On our entrance, the scowling glance of the males of the party, and a quick motion of the hand towards the folds of the 'faja' [a sash in which the Spaniard carries a formidable clasp-knife] caused in me, at least, anything but a comfortable sensation; but their hostile intentions, if ever entertained, were immediately removed by a wave of the hand from our conductress, who, leading my companion towards the sibyl, whispered something in her ear. The old crone appeared incredulous. The 'Unknown' uttered one word; but that word had the effect of magic; she prostrated herself at his feet, and in an instant, from an object of suspicion he became one of worship to the whole family, to whom, on taking leave, he made a handsome present, and departed with their united blessings, to the astonishment of myself and what looked very like terror in our Spanish guide.

"I was, as the phrase goes, dying with curiosity, and as soon as we mounted our horses, exclaimed--'Where, in the name of goodness, did you pick up your acquaintance with the language of those extraordinary people?'

"'Some years ago, in Moultan,' he replied.

"'And by what means do you possess such apparent influence over them?' But the 'Unknown' had already said more than he perhaps wished on the subject. He drily replied that he had more than once owed his life to gypsies, and had reason to know them well; but this was said in a tone which precluded all further queries on my part. The subject was never again broached, and we returned in silence to the fonda . . . This is a most extraordinary character, and the more I see of him the more am I puzzled. He appears acquainted with everybody and everything, but apparently unknown to every one himself. Though his figure bespeaks youth--and by his own account his age does not exceed thirty [he would be thirty-six in the following July]--yet the snows of eighty winters could not have whitened his locks more completely than they are. But in his dark and searching eye there is an almost supernatural penetration and lustre, which, were I inclined to superstition, might induce me to set down its possessor as a second Melmoth." {297a}

CHAPTER XIX: MAY-DECEMBER 1839

Borrow confesses that he was at a loss to know how to commence operations in Seville. He was entirely friendless, even the British Consul being unapproachable on account of his religious beliefs. However, he soon gathered round him some of those curious characters who seemed always to gravitate towards him, no matter where he might be, or with what occupied. Surely the Scriptures never had such a curious assortment of missionaries as Borrow employed? At Seville there was the gigantic Greek, Dionysius of Cephalonia; the "aged professor of music, who, with much stiffness and ceremoniousness, united much that was excellent and admirable"; {298a} the Greek bricklayer, Johannes Chysostom, a native of Morea, who might at any time become "the Masaniello of Seville." With these assistants Borrow set to work to throw the light of the Gospel into the dark corners of the city.

Soon after arriving at Seville, he decided to adopt a new plan of living.

"On account of the extreme dearness of every article at the posada," he wrote to Mr Brandram on 12th June, "where, moreover, I had a suspicion that I was being watched [this may have reference to the police suspicion that he was a Russian spy], I removed with my servant and horses to an empty house in a solitary part of the town . . . Here I live in the greatest privacy, admitting no person but two or three in whom I had the greatest confidence, who entertain the same views as myself, and who assist me in the circulation of the Gospel."

The house stood in a solitary situation, occupying one side of the Plazuela de la Pila Seca (the Little Square of the Empty Trough). It was a two-storied building and much too large for Borrow's requirements. Having bought the necessary articles of furniture, he retired behind the shutters of his Andalusian mansion with Antonio and the two horses. He lived in the utmost seclusion, spending a large portion of his time in study or in dreamy meditation. "The people here complain sadly of the heat," he writes to Mr Brandram (28th June 1839), "but as for myself, I luxuriate in it, like the butterflies which hover about the macetas, or flowerpots, in the court." In the cool of the evening he would mount Sidi Habismilk and ride along the Dehesa until the topmost towers of the city were out of sight, then, turning the noble Arab, he would let him return at his best speed, which was that of the whirlwind.

Throughout his work in Spain Borrow had been seriously handicapped by being unable to satisfy the demand for Bibles that met him everywhere he went. In a letter (June) from Maria Diaz, who was acting as his agent in Madrid, {299a} the same story is told.

"The binder has brought me eight Bibles," she writes, "which he has contrived to make up out of THE SHEETS GNAWN BY THE RATS, and which would have been necessary even had they amounted to eight thousand (y era necesario se puvieran vuelto 8000), because the people are innumerable who come to seek more. Don Santiago has been here with some friends, who insisted upon having a part of them. The Aragonese Gentleman has likewise been, he who came before your departure, and bespoke twenty-four; he now wants twenty-five. I begged them to take Testaments, but they would not." {300a}

The Greek bricklayer proved a most useful agent. His great influence with his poor acquaintances resulted in the sale of many Testaments. More could have been done had it not been necessary to proceed with extreme caution, lest the authorities should take action and seize the small stock of books that remained.

When he took and furnished the large house in the little square, there had been in Borrow's mind another reason than a desire for solitude and freedom from prying eyes. Throughout his labours in Spain he had kept up a correspondence with Mrs Clarke of Oulton, who, on 15th March, had written informing him of her intention to take up her abode for a short time at Seville.

For some time previously Mrs Clarke had been having trouble about her estate. Her mother (September 1835) and father (February 1836) were both dead, and her brother Breame had inherited the estate and she the mortgage together with the Cottage on Oulton Broad. Breame Skepper died (May 1837), leaving a wife and six children. In his will he had appointed Trustees, who demanded the sale of the Estate and division of the money, which was opposed by Mrs Clarke as executrix and mortgagee. Later it was agreed between the parties that the Estate should be sold for 11,000 pounds to a Mr Joseph Cator Webb, and an agreement to that effect was signed. Anticipating that the Estate would increase in value, and apparently regretting their bargain, the Trustees delayed carrying out their undertaking, and Mr Webb filed a bill in Chancery to force them to do so. Mrs Clarke's legal advisers thought it better that she should disappear for a time. Hence her letter to Borrow, in replying to which (29th March), he expresses pleasure at the news of his friend's determination "to settle in Seville for a short time--which, I assure you, I consider to be the most agreeable retreat you can select . . . for THERE the growls of your enemies will scarcely reach you." He goes on to tell her that he laughed outright at the advice of her counsellor not to take a house and furnish it.

"Houses in Spain are let by the day: and in a palace here you will find less furniture than in your cottage at Oulton. Were you to furnish a Spanish house in the style of cold, wintry England, you would be unable to breathe. A few chairs, tables, and mattresses are all that is required, with of course a good stock of bed-linen . . .

"Bring with you, therefore, your clothes, plenty of bed-linen, etc., half-a-dozen blankets, two dozen knives and forks, a mirror or two, twelve silver table spoons, and a large one for soup, tea things and urn (for the Spaniards never drink tea), a few books, but not many,-- and you will have occasion for nothing more, or, if you have, you can purchase it here as cheap as in England."

Borrow's ideas of domestic comfort were those of the old campaigner. For all that, he showed himself very thorough in the directions he gave as to how and where Mrs Clarke should book her passage and obtain "a passport for yourself and Hen." (Henrietta her daughter, now nearly twenty years of age), and the warning he gave that no attempt should be made to go ashore at Lisbon, "a very dangerous place."

On 7th June Mrs Clarke and her daughter Henrietta sailed from London on board the steam-packet Royal Tar bound for Cadiz, where they arrived on the 16th, and, on the day following, entered into possession of their temporary home where Borrow was already installed, safe for the time from Mr Webb's Chancery bill. It was no doubt to Mrs and Miss Clarke that Borrow referred when he wrote to Mr Brandram {301a} saying that "two or three ladies of my acquaintance occasionally dispose of some [Testaments] amongst their friends, but they say that they experience some difficulty, the cry for Bibles being great."

Borrow continued to reside at 7 Plazuela de la Pila Seca, and Mrs Clarke and Henrietta soon learned something of the vicissitudes and excitements of a missionary's life. On Sunday, 8th July, as Borrow "happened to be reading the Liturgy," he received a visit from "various alguacils, headed by the Alcade del Barrio, or headborough, who made a small seizure of Testaments and Gypsy Gospels which happened to be lying about." {302a} This circumstance convinced Borrow of the good effect of his labours in and around Seville.

The time had now arrived, however, when the whole of the smuggled Testaments had been disposed of, and there was no object in remaining longer in Seville, or in Spain for that matter. There were books at San Lucar that might without official opposition be shipped out of the country, and Borrow therefore determined to see what could be done towards distributing them among the Spanish residents on the Coast of Barbary. This done, he hoped to return to Spain and dispose