Don Felix knelt at her feet and kissed her hands, crying, “Oh, my beautiful Aurora!  Do you really care for me?  How happy we shall be together!”

The two lovers resolved to return at once to Madrid, and make preparations for the wedding.  At the end of a fortnight my mistress was married, and I again set out on my travels with a well-lined purse.

III.—­Old Acquaintances

I had always had a particular desire to see the famous town of Toledo.  I arrived there in three days, and lodged at a good inn, where, by reason of my fine dress, I passed for a gentleman of importance.  But I soon discovered that Toledo was one of those places in which it is easier to spend money than to gain it.

So I set out for Aragon.  On the road I fell in with a young cavalier going in the same direction.  He was a man of a frank and pleasant disposition, and we soon got on a friendly footing.  His name, I learned, was Don Alfonso; he was, like me, seeking for means of livelihood.

It came on to rain very heavily as we were skirting the base of a mountain, and, in looking about for some place of shelter, we found a cave in which an aged, white-haired hermit was living.  At first he was not pleased to see us, but something about me seemed to strike him favourably, and he then gave us a kind welcome.  We tied our horses to a tree, and prepared to stay the night.  The hermit began to talk to us in a very pious and edifying way, when another aged anchorite ran into the cave, and said, “It is all over; we’re discovered.  The police are after us!”

The first hermit tore off his white beard and his hair, and took off his long robe, showing a doublet beneath; and his companion followed his example.  In a few moments they were changed into a couple of young men whose faces I recognised.

“Raphael!  Lamela!  What mischief are you working now?  And where are my thousand ducats, you rascals?”

“Ah, Gil Blas, I knew you at once!” said Raphael blandly.  “One comes on old acquaintances when one least expects them.  I know we treated you badly.  But the money’s gone, and can’t be recovered.  Come with us, and we will soon make up to you all that you have lost.”

It was certainly unwise to remain in a cave which the police were about to visit, and, as the rain had ceased and the night had fallen, we all set out in the darkness to find some better shelter.  We took the road to Requena, and came to a forest, where we saw a light shining in the distance.  Don Alfonso crept up to the spot, and saw four men sitting round a fire, eating and quarrelling.  It was easy to see what they were quarrelling about.  An old gentleman and a lovely young girl were bound to a tree close by, and by the tree stood a fine carriage.

“They are brigands,” said Alfonso, when he returned, “who have captured a nobleman and his daughter, I think.  Let us attack them.  In order, no doubt, to prevent their quarrelling turning into a deadly affray, they have piled all their arms in a heap some yards away from the fire.  So they cannot make much of a fight.”