“Forward, Senor Licurgo!”

“Back, Senor Don Jose,” replied the peasant, in distressed accents.  “You don’t know what kind of people those are.  They are the same men who stole the chalice, the Virgin’s crown, and two candlesticks from the church of the Carmen last month; they are the men who robbed the Madrid train two years ago.”

Don Jose, hearing these alarming antecedents, felt his courage begin to give way.

“Do you see that great high hill in the distance?  Well, that is where those rascals hide themselves; there in some caves which they call the Retreat of the Cavaliers.”

“Of the Cavaliers?”

“Yes, senor.  They come down to the high-road when the Civil Guards are not watching, and rob all they can.  Do you see a cross beyond the bend of the road?  Well, that was erected in remembrance of the death of the Alcalde of Villahorrenda, whom they murdered there at the time of the elections.”

“Yes, I see the cross.”

“There is an old house there, in which they hide themselves to wait for the carriers.  They call that place The Pleasaunce.”

“The Pleasaunce?”

“If all the people who have been murdered and robbed there were to be restored they would form an army.”

While they were thus talking shots were again heard, this time nearer than before, which made the valiant hearts of the travellers quake a little, but not that of the country lad, who, jumping about for joy, asked Senor Licurgo’s permission to go forward to watch the conflict which was taking place so near them.  Observing the courage of the boy Don Jose felt a little ashamed of having been frightened, or at least a little disturbed, by the proximity of the robbers, and cried, putting spurs to his nag: 

“We will go forward, then.  Perhaps we may be able to lend assistance to the unlucky travellers who find themselves in so perilous a situation, and give a lesson besides to those cavaliers.”

The peasant endeavored to convince the young man of the rashness of his purpose, as well as of the profitlessness of his generous design, since those who had been robbed were robbed and perhaps dead also, and not in a condition to need the assistance of any one.

The gentleman insisted, in spite of these sage counsels; the peasant reiterated his objections more strongly than before; when the appearance of two or three carters, coming quietly down the road driving a wagon, put an end to the controversy.  The danger could not be very great when these men were coming along so unconcernedly, singing merry songs; and such was in fact the case, for the shots, according to what the carters said, had not been fired by the robbers, but by the Civil Guards, who desired in this way to prevent the escape of half a dozen thieves whom they were taking, bound together, to the town jail.

“Yes, I know now what it was,” said Licurgo, pointing to a light cloud of smoke which was to be seen some distance off, to the right of the road.  “They have peppered them there.  That happens every other day.”