“As an old friend and countryman, and more especially as a lawyer,” said he to the avogado, “you are the most fitting man to give me advice in this difficulty.  Tell me, then, what I ought to do, in order that our native town, which is innocent in the matter, should suffer no prejudice.”

“You speak now like a sensible man,” replied the other, “and as a friend will I advise you.  Let us immediately set off to Penafiel, deliver the general’s letter to the corregidor, and take him with us to Castrillo.  There, for form’s sake, an examination of your conduct in the affair can take place.  You shall give up the jewels, the carriage, and the lady, and set off immediately to join your partida.”

“To the greater part of that I willingly agree,” said the Empecinado.  “The jewels are buried in the cellar, and the carriage is in the stable.  Take both when you list.  But as to the lady, before I give her up, I will give up my own soul.  She is my property; I took her in fair fight, and at the risk of my life.”

“You will think better of it before we get to Castrillo,” replied the lawyer.

The Empecinado shook his head, but led the way to the inn, where they took horse, and the next day reached Penafiel, whence they set out the following morning for Castrillo, which is a couple of leagues further, accompanied by the corregidor, his secretary, and two alguazils.  The Empecinado was induced to leave his escort at Penafiel, in order that the sort of pro forma investigation which was to be gone through might not appear to have taken place under circumstances of intimidation.  The avogado started a couple of hours earlier than the rest of the party, to have things in readiness, so that the proceedings might be got through as rapidly as possible.

It was about eight o’clock on a fine summer’s morning that the Empecinado and his companions reached Castrillo.  As they entered the town, an old mendicant, who was lying curled up like a dog in the sunshine under the porch of a house, lifted his head at the noise of the horses.  As his eyes rested upon Diez, he made a bound forward with an agility extraordinary in one of his years, and fell almost under the feet of the Empecinado’s horse, making the startled animal spring aside with a violence and suddenness sufficient to unhorse many a less practised rider than the one who bestrode him.  The Empecinado lifted his whip in anger, but the old man, who had risen to his feet, showed no sign of fear, and as he stood in the middle of the road, and immediately in the path of the Empecinado, the latter recognized the wild features and long grey hair of old Gutierrez.

“Maldito seas!” cried the old man, extending his arms towards the guerilla.  “Murderer! the hour of vengeance is nigh.  I saw it in my dreams.  My Pedrillo showed me his assassin trampled under the feet of horses. Asesino!  Venga la hora de tu muerte!”

And the old man, who was half crazed by his misfortunes, relapsed into an incoherent strain of lamentations for his son, and curses upon him whom he called his murderer.