you will see your name enrolled on an enormous blackboard, from which any visitor may read your arrival without the trouble of investigating the register or questioning the administrador.
We found ourselves at last upon the third corridor, No. 54, in a grand old room with a fine view from the front window of the bustling Calle del Coliseo below, while through the door opening upon the inner galleries an enchanting prospect is afforded of a court filled with gorgeous flowers and tropical plants flooded with silvery sunshine.
The camarista manifested his pleasure in serving me and in due form of courtesy introduced himself as Pomposo Vazques, "Elscriado de V." ("Your obedient servant "). On entering the room, he directed attention to the placard of printed rules and to the bell—insisting that he should be called at any time. In the evening a gentle tap at the door, to which I responded, showed me the full-length figure of Pomposo, in all his dignity. He wished to know if I needed anything, on which I asked for matches. With arms pinioned to his sides, hands thrown upward above his shoulders, digits outspread, with eyes serious, mouth drawn to one side and head shaking ominously, he informed me: "En este hotel siempre faltan cerillos y jabon!" ("In this hotel we never furnish matches and soap"). After this speech he moved backward step by step, like a grand chamberlain retiring from the presence of royalty, until his grotesque figure reached the door-way and disappeared in the corridor.
About nine o'clock I heard an awful rumbling and shaking of the building, as if the whole structure was toppling over. No solution came that night, but next morning when Pomposo came on his rounds, I ascertained that it was the mozo rolling his strangely constructed bed to the front door, where, snugly ensconced, he could, at a moment's notice, admit a lodger or ward off an intruder.
