At length the Gospel of Saint Luke in the Gypsy language was in a state of readiness.  I therefore deposited a certain number of copies in the despacho, and announced them for sale.  The Basque, which was by this time also printed, was likewise advertised.  For this last work there was little demand.  Not so, however, for the Gypsy Luke, of which I could have easily disposed of the whole edition in less than a fortnight.  Long, however, before this period had expired, the clergy were up in arms.  “Sorcery!” said one bishop.  “There is more in this than we can dive into,” exclaimed a second.  “He will convert all Spain by means of the Gypsy language,” cried a third.  And then came the usual chorus on such occasions, of Que infamia!  Que picardia!  At last, having consulted together, away they hurried to their tool the corregidor, or, according to the modern term, the gefe politico of Madrid.  I have forgotten the name of this worthy, of whom I had myself no personal knowledge whatever.  Judging from his actions, however, and from common report, I should say that he was a stupid wrong-headed creature, savage withal—­a melange of borrico, mule, and wolf.  Having an inveterate antipathy to all foreigners, he lent a willing ear to the complaint of my accusers, and forthwith gave orders to make a seizure of all the copies of the Gypsy Gospel which could be found in the despacho.  The consequence was, that a numerous body of alguazils directed their steps to the Calle del principe; some thirty copies of the book in question were pounced upon, and about the same number of Saint Luke in Basque.  With this spoil these satellites returned in triumph to the gefatura politica, where they divided the copies of the Gypsy volume amongst themselves, selling subsequently the greater number at a large price, the book being in the greatest demand, and thus becoming unintentionally agents of an heretical society.  But every one must live by his trade, say these people, and they lose no opportunity of making their words good, by disposing to the best advantage of any booty which falls into their hands.  As no person cared about the Basque Gospel, it was safely stowed away, with other unmarketable captures, in the warehouses of the office.

The Gypsy Gospels had now been seized, at least as many as were exposed for sale in the despacho.  The corregidor and his friends, however, were of opinion that many more might be obtained by means of a little management.  Fellows, therefore, hangers-on of the police office, were daily dispatched to the shop in all kinds of disguises, inquiring, with great seeming anxiety, for “Gypsy books,” and offering high prices for copies.  They, however, returned to their employers empty-handed.  My Gallegan was on his guard, informing all who made inquiries, that books of no description would be sold at the establishment for the present.  Which was in truth the case, as I had given him particular orders to sell no more under any pretence whatever.