That this show of gentle patronage was only a form, Henderson was certain, even before the son of the family returned from Mexico. Don Abrahan did not like Americans. He held them in contempt as a lower order of humanity, an aggressive, rough-handed order, to be certain. Once Henderson had heard Don Abrahan say, the patron not being aware of his ward's progress in the Spanish tongue, that Americans were heavy-stamping ruffians who must be excluded from that pastoral land.
Don Roberto had taken a sort of humorous fancy to the American, as toward some strange, or perhaps fantastic, creature from a distant land. Almost immediately on his arrival he selected Henderson as his personal attendant, elevating him, if advancement this peculiar preferment could be called, from a life of drudgery and long hours in the storehouse and fields to one of comparative luxury and ease.
Henderson was fitted out with a wardrobe that would have gladdened many of his late sailing mates, clothing of no less distinction than off-cast articles of Don Roberto's own. The tailor that Don Roberto kept as part of his personal entourage adjusted these garments to Henderson's body, little alteration being necessary, the young men being almost of exact height and general build. Velvet and silk garments: these were, jackets braided in silver and gilt, pantaloons of gray, green, black, and fawn velvet, large at the bottom
