"Stylish!" again chimed in the major, repeating his formula.
"Rosewood chairs and tables," continued Clayley; "a harp, guitar, piano, sofas, ottomans, carpets knee-deep--whew!"
Not thinking of the furniture, I looked around the room strangely bewildered.
"Ha! Ha! what perplexes you, Captain?" asked Clayley.
"Nothing."
"Ah! the girls you spoke of--the nymphs of the pond; but where the deuce are they?"
"Ay, where?" I asked, with a strange sense of uneasiness.
"Girls! what girls?" inquired the major, who had not yet learned the exact nature of our aquatic adventure.
Here the voice of Don Cosme was heard calling out--
"Pepe! Ramon! Francisco! bring dinner. _Anda! anda_!" (Be quick!)
"Who on earth is the old fellow calling?" asked the major, with some concern in his manner. "I see no one."
Nor could we; so we all rose up together, and approached that side of the building that looked rearward.
The house, to all appearance, had but one apartment--the room in which we then were. The only point of this screened from observation was the little veranda into which Don Cosme had entered; but this was not large enough to contain the number of persons who might be represented by the names he had called out.
Two smaller buildings stood under the olive-trees in the rear; but these, like the house, were _transparent_, and not a human figure appeared within them. We could see through the trunks of the olives a clear distance of a hundred yards. Beyond this, the mezquite and the scarlet leaves of the wild maguey marked the boundary of the forest.
It was equally puzzling to us whither the girls had gone, or whence "Pepe, Ramon, and Francisco" were to come.
The tinkling of a little bell startled us from our conjectures, and the voice of Don Cosme was heard inquiring:
"Have you any favourite dish, gentlemen?"
Someone answered, "No."
"Curse me!" exclaimed the major, "I believe he can get anything we may call for--raise it out of the ground by stamping his foot or ringing a bell. Didn"t I tell you?"
This exclamation was uttered in consequence of the appearance of a train of well-dressed servants, five or six in number, bringing waiters with dishes and decanters. They entered from the porch; but how did they get into it? Certainly not from the woods without, else we should have seen them as they approached the cage.
The major uttered a terrible invocation, adding in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, "This must be the Mexican Aladdin!"
I confess I was not less puzzled than he. Meantime the servants came and went, going empty, and returning loaded. In less than half an hour the table fairly creaked under the weight of a sumptuous dinner. This is no figure of speech. There were dishes of ma.s.sive silver, with huge flagons of the same metal, and even cups of gold!
"_Senores, vamos a comer_" (Come, let us eat, gentlemen), said Don Cosme, politely motioning us to be seated. "I fear that you will not be pleased with my _cuisine_--it is purely Mexican--_estilo del pais_."
To say that the dinner was not a good one would be to utter a falsehood, and contradict the statement of Major George Blossom, of the U.S.
quarter-master"s department, who afterwards declared that it was the best dinner he had ever eaten in his life.
Turtle-soup first.
"Perhaps you would prefer _julienne_ or _vermicelli_, gentlemen?"
inquired the Don.
"Thank you; your turtle is very fine," replied I, necessarily the interpreter of the party.
"Try some of the _aguacate_--it will improve the flavour of your soup."
One of the waiters handed round a dark, olive-coloured fruit of an oblong shape, about the size of a large pear.
"Ask him how it is used, Captain," said the major to me.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, gentlemen. I had forgotten that some of our edibles may be strange to you. Simply pare off the rind, and slice it thus."
We tried the experiment, but could not discover any peculiar improvement in the flavour of the soup. The pulp of the aguacate seemed singularly insipid to our northern palates.
Fish, as with us, and of the finest quality, formed the second course.
A variety of dishes were now brought upon the table; most of them new to us, but all piquant, pleasant to the taste, and peculiar.
The major tried them all, determined to find out which he might like best--a piece of knowledge that he said would serve him upon some future occasion.
The Don seemed to take a pleasure in helping the major, whom he honoured by the t.i.tle of "Senor Coronel."
"_Puchero_, Senor Coronel?"
"Thank you, sir," grunted the major, and tried the puchero.
"Allow me to help you to a spoonful of _mole_."
"With pleasure, Don Cosme."
The _mole_ suddenly disappeared down the major"s capacious throat.
"Try some of this _chile relleno_."
"By all means," answered the major. "Ah, by Jove! hot as fire!--whew!"
"_Pica! Pica_!" answered Don Cosme, pointing to his thorax, and smiling at the wry faces the major was making. "Wash it down, Senor, with a gla.s.s of this claret--or here, Pepe! Is the Johannisberg cool yet?
Bring it in, then. Perhaps you prefer champagne, Senores?"
"Thank you; do not trouble yourself, Don Cosme."
"No trouble, Capitan--bring champagne. Here, Senor Coronel, try the _guisado de pato_."
"Thank you," stammered the major; "you are very kind. Curse the thing!
how it burns!"
"Do you think he understands English?" inquired Clayey of me in a whisper.