"Anger of hell! what a fortunate day we shall have if that traitor, who sold the band of the Vengador, falls into our hands! We also will celebrate the coronation of Don Alfonso, and will not leave it altogether to those down below on the plain."
"Bellido shall not escape us on this occasion, as he did on that night some time ago. I once swore to hang him on the ramparts of the Castle of Carrion, in which, through his vile treachery, so many of our comrades perished; and if, as I hope, we capture him to-day, he shall appear to-morrow as a scarecrow on the blackened walls of the burned edifice. We must keep our eyes open, comrades, for I have been told that the Salvadores are in this neighbourhood; doubtless to see to the safety of all those who have come to take part in the festivities."
The officers of the band had got thus far in their conversation when they were interrupted by a whistle, which was a perfect imitation of that of a blackbird.
"People are approaching, and the lookouts are giving the signal," said Juan Centellos; and he added, looking towards the road, "It is a man who is carrying a woman behind him on his horse. May the demon carry me off if it is not he of whom we are in search! To the road, to the road, comrades!"
And Juan Centellos and some of his men took up their arms and hurried in the direction of the road.
The man indeed whom they had seen was Bellido Dolfos and the woman he was carrying behind him on the horse was Sancha, the daughter of the blind lute-player, the mistress of Don Suero.
Bellido put spurs to his horse, but the bandits barred his way. He then drew his sword, resolved to defend himself obstinately. Vain, however, were all his endeavours, for in a few moments he was disarmed by the bandits and dragged, together with Sancha, into the wood of chestnut trees.
Bellido indeed deserved to suffer on earth all the tortures of hell, and the wretched woman, who accompanied him, was not worthy of compassion, for she had become degraded to that extent that she avoided her blind father, who was seeking her all over the country; and it was she also who had aided Don Suero and the Count of Cabra to allure the Cid and his escort, when going to the Cortes of Leon, into the ambush, where, almost by a miracle, their lives were preserved; notwithstanding all this, it is repugnant to us to mention the cruelties of which they, especially Bellido Dolfos, were the victims when they fell into the hands of the bandits.
"Comrades," said Juan Centellos to the members of his band, "let this woman go and bring the news to her noble lover; we shall take good care of Bellido."
The bandits then seized on the traitor and dragged him to a very large chestnut tree, the trunk of which was hollow, and into which a man could enter through an aperture which was almost on a level with the ground. They shoved him into the hollow trunk notwithstanding the furious resistance which he made to avoid it; they then closed up the hole with a large flat stone which they carried to it, and against this they placed others, so that no man's strength, exerted from within, could push them away.