There still remained there the tents and the other things, which had been left to the care of a few of the bandits who had not been able to go with the others. The Vengador allotted one of those tents to the sole use of Teresa and the brave youth who accompanied her, and he and his comrades lay down in the others, half-dead with fatigue and discouragement, first having placed sentinels in the best positions for such, as they feared that Don Suero's men might have followed their tracks.
All the bandits were soon in a heavy sleep, except Martin and Rui-Venablos, on whom fatigue and grief seemed to have had an effect quite different from that which they exercised on their companions.
"Ah, poor Bellido!" said the former, "he must have found his tomb in the Castle of Carrion. We were fools not to have followed his example; we desired to act as cavaliers, forgetting that we were only bandits, and that we had to do with one of the most depraved and pitiless wretches that was ever born of woman. It is we who should have found our deaths in the castle, and not our loyal and brave comrades who have been the innocent victims of our stupidity. What have we to do now? Only to lament over our error, and the mishap of our companions."
"Anger of God!" exclaimed Rui-Venablos, irritated at the discouragement of Martin. "Does the Vengador become faint-hearted, and does he shed cowardly tears just when the moment has arrived to work with more firmness, with more bravery, and with less pity than ever? Can you avenge our comrades with tears, which suit women well enough, but which are quite out of place in a man; by killing the count I have to avenge our comrades, and something more"—
"I have to avenge our comrades, and something more also, by reducing to ashes the Castle of Carrion and plunging my dagger into the heart of the count," said Martin, excited by the words of Rui-Venablos.
"Thus do I like to see my chief!" exclaimed Rui, filled with savage joy.
"Do not call me by that name," said Martin, clasping the hand of his companion. "Call me brother, for from this day we shall begin to reorganise the band, and it shall have two chiefs. To prove to you how burning is the vengeance which consumes me, and how great is my friendship for you, I will confide a secret to you. Know, then, that I did not join the band of the Raposo in order to exercise the calling of a bandit, and that I did not continue such a life or take the name of the Vengador in order to avenge those who were slaughtered with the Raposo, but to avenge my father, who was vilely assassinated by the count."
Martin then related to Rui-Venablos all that had happened as they were returning from the pilgrimage, when Beatrice was carried off, adding—
"I have kept this secret from our comrades, in order that they might not mistrust me, knowing that I was working for an object different from theirs, and that I was only desirous of avenging an offence solely connected with myself."
"For the same reason," said Rui-Venablos joyously, "I have concealed the true cause of my rancour against Don Suero. You must know, brother, that I also did not embrace the life of a bandit through affection for it, for I always held a more honourable position. I have been a soldier since the down was on my lip, and I have always fought in defence of the faith, of my native land, and of the oppressed; and have never entered into the pay of any but honourable gentlemen. Being in the service of Don Ordoño de Lara, an unfortunate old man, quite blind, came to me one day and said, 'For a long time I have sought a man of kindly heart and with a strong arm, who might feel compassion for and avenge a wretched father, whom the Count of Carrion has deprived of his sight and of his honour.' He then related to me, with tears capable of softening stones, how Don Suero had carried off from him a daughter, who was his sole happiness in this world, depriving him at the same time of his eyesight, in order that he might not be able to find her or avenge so horrible a crime.