With much difficulty did the guerilla make up his mind to abandon the inglorious position, and to go where duty called him.  Strongly recommending his captive to his brother and sister-in-law, he set out for Ciudad Rodrigo, escorted by a sergeant and ten men of his partida.  They had not proceeded half a mile from Castrillo, when, from behind a hedge bordering the road, a shot was fired, and the bullet slightly wounded the Empecinado’s charger.  Two of the escort pushed their horses through the hedge, and immediately returned, dragging between them a grey-haired old man, seventy years of age, who clutched in his wrinkled fingers a rusty carbine that had just been discharged.

“He is surely mad!” exclaimed the Empecinado, gazing in astonishment at the venerable assassin. “Dime, viejo; do you know me?  And why do you seek my life?”

“Si, si, te conozes.  You are the Empecinado—­the bloody Empecinado.  Give me back my Pedro, whom you murdered. Ay di me! mi Pedrillo, te han matado!”

And the old man’s frame quivered with rage, as he glared on the Empecinado with an expression of unutterable hate.

One of the guerillas stepped forward—­

“’Tis old Gutierrez, the father of Pedro, who was hung in the Pinares de Coca, for betraying us to the French.”

“Throw his carbine into yonder pool, and leave the poor wretch,” said the Empecinado; “his son deserved the death he met.”

“He missed his aim to-day, but he may point truer another time,” said one of the men, half drawing a pistol from his holster.

“Harm him not!” said the Empecinado sternly, and the party rode on.

“Maldito seas!” screamed the old man, casting himself in the dust of the road, in a paroxysm of impotent fury. “Maldito!  Maldito!  Ay de mi! mi Pedrillo!”

And his curses and lamentations continued till the guerillas were out of hearing.

On arriving at Ciudad Rodrigo, the Empecinado went immediately to General Cuesta, who, although he did not receive him unkindly, could not but blame him greatly for the enormous crime he had committed in carrying off a lady who was distinguished by so mighty a personage as the Duke of Infantado.  He told him it was absolutely necessary to devise some plan by which the Duke’s anger might be appeased.  Murat also had sent a message to the central junta, saying, that if satisfaction were not given, he would send troops to lay waste the whole district of Penafiel, in which Castrillo was situated; and it was probable, that if he had not done so already, it was because a large portion of the inhabitants of that district were believed to be well affected to the French.  Without exactly telling him what he must do, the old general gave him a despatch for the corregidor of Penafiel, and desired him to present himself before that functionary, and concert with him the measures to be taken.