Captain Brassbound's Conversion

Midday. A roam in a Moorish castle. A divan seat runs round the / dilapidated adobe walls, which are partly painted, partly faced with / white tiles patterned in green and yellow. The ceiling is made up / of little squares, painted in bright colors, with gilded edges, / and ornamented with gilt knobs. On the cement floor are mattings, / sheepskins, and leathern cushions with geometrical patterns on them. / There is a tiny Moorish table in the middle; and at it a huge saddle, / with saddle cloths of various colors, showing that the room is used by / foreigners accustomed to chairs. Anyone sitting at the table in this / seat would have the chief entrance, a large horseshoe arch, on his left, / and another saddle seat between him and the arch; whilst, if susceptible / to draughts, he would probably catch cold from a little Moorish door in / the wall behind him to his right.

Two or three of Brassbound's men, overcome by the midday heat, sprawl / supine on the floor, with their reefer coats under their heads, their / knees uplifted, and their calves laid comfortably on the divan. Those / who wear shirts have them open at the throat for greater coolness. Some / have jerseys. All wear boots and belts, and have guns ready to their / hands. One of them, lying with his head against the second saddle seat, / wears what was once a fashionable white English yachting suit. He is / evidently a pleasantly worthless young English gentleman gone to the / bad, but retaining sufficient self-respect to shave carefully and / brush his hair, which is wearing thin, and does not seem to have been / luxuriant even in its best days.