I looked at these two people attentively; they were both young, the man apparently about twenty-five years of age.  He was a short thick-made churl, evidently of prodigious strength; his features were rather handsome, but with a gloomy expression, and his eyes were full of sullen fire.  His wife somewhat resembled him, but had a countenance more open and better tempered; but what struck me as most singular in connexion with these people, was the colour of their hair and complexion; the latter was fair and ruddy, and the former of a bright auburn, both in striking contrast to the black hair and swarthy visages which in general distinguish the natives of this province.  “Are you an Andalusian?” said I to the hostess.  “I should almost conclude you to be a German.”

Hostess.—­And your worship would not be very wrong.  It is true that I am a Spaniard, being born in Spain, but it is equally true that I am of German blood, for my grandparents came from Germany, even like those of this gentleman, my lord and husband.

Myself.—­And what chance brought your grandparents into this country?

Hostess.—­Did your worship never hear of the German colonies?  There are many of them in these parts.  In old times the land was nearly deserted, and it was very dangerous for travellers to journey along the waste, owing to the robbers.  So along time ago, nearly a hundred years, as I am told, some potent lord sent messengers to Germany, to tell the people there what a goodly land there was in these parts uncultivated for want of hands, and to promise every labourer who would consent to come and till it, a house and a yoke of oxen, with food and provision for one year.  And in consequence of this invitation a great many poor families left the German land and came hither, and settled down in certain towns and villages which had been prepared for them, which places were called German colonies, and this name they still retain.

Myself.—­And how many of these colonies may there be?

Hostess.—­There are several, both on this side of Cordova and the other.  The nearest is Luisiana, about two leagues from hence, from which place both my husband and myself come; the next is Carlota, which is some ten leagues distant, and these are the only colonies of our people which I have seen; but there are others farther on, and some, as I have heard say, in the very heart of the Sierra Morena.

Myself.—­And do the colonists still retain the language of their forefathers?

Hostess.—­We speak Spanish, or rather Andalusian, and no other language.  A few, indeed, amongst the very old people, retain a few words of German, which they acquired from their fathers, who were born in the other country:  but the last person amongst the colonists who could understand a conversation in German, was the aunt of my mother, who came over when a girl.  When I was a child I remember her conversing with a foreign traveller, a countryman of hers, in a language which I was told was German, and they understood each other, though the old woman confessed that she had lost many words:  she has now been dead several years.