In Colour He Was A
Bright Chestnut, Save His Flowing Mane And Tail, Which Were Almost
Black.
I expressed my admiration, whereupon the herrador, in high
spirits, pressed his heels to the creature's sides, and flinging
the bridle on its neck, speeded over the plain with prodigious
swiftness, shouting the old Spanish cry, Cierra!
I attempted to
keep up with him, but had not a chance. "I call him the flower of
Spain," said the herrador, rejoining me. "Purchase him, Don Jorge,
his price is but three thousand reals. {19} I would not sell him
for double that sum, but the Carlist thieves have their eyes upon
him, and I am apprehensive that they will some day make a dash
across the river and break into Villa Seca, all to get possession
of my horse, 'The Flower of Spain.'"
It may be as well to observe here, that within a month from this
period, my friend the herrador, not being able to find a regular
purchaser for his steed, entered into negotiations with the
aforesaid thieves respecting him, and finally disposed of the
animal to their leader, receiving not the three thousand reals he
demanded, but an entire herd of horned cattle, probably driven from
the plains of La Mancha. For this transaction, which was neither
more nor less than high treason, he was cast into the prison of
Toledo, where, however, he did not continue long; for during a
short visit to Villa Seca, which I made in the spring of the
following year, I found him alcalde of that "republic."
We arrived at the bridge of Azeca, which is about half a league
from Villa Seca; close beside it is a large water-mill, standing
upon a dam which crosses the river.
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