"Stop!" he exclaimed, before he had gone four steps. "Don't you think that we have left some liquor behind?"
Fray Diego gave an affirmative grunt. They re-entered the room, and feeling on the floor they came against the jar of gin that was not completely empty. This they poured into the glasses, and drank up all there was. Their next act was to sally into the street. The rough-stoned pavement was wet. A fine rain was falling, but it was so thick that it penetrated clothing as much as a sharp shower. Night had completely closed in; and as, according to the municipal customs, it wanted a good half-hour before the celebrated oil-lamps were lighted, darkness enveloped the rain-driven town. The two heroes, animated by a warlike spirit, perambulated the Calle del Pozo with determination, the cleric before, the noble behind, both muffled up to the eyes, each with the instrument of murder under his arm. They entered the Calle de las Hogueras, passed under the walls of the fortress and out by the road that runs by the old wall of the town. As the water filtered through their clothes, it refreshed their bodies, and partially equilibriated their tempers. Fray Diego became visibly calmer, and the black clouds of depression that oppressed him gradually dispersed, but the baron's haughty, cruel spirit became meanwhile a prey to the morbid conditions of the other. But both facing the prospect of death pursued their intrepid course through the night and rain. They went for some distance by the old wall until they came to the Sarrió road, which they took. They had not proceeded five minutes along it when they heard a groan. They stopped at once, and approaching the side-wall they caught sight of a bundle, which, on coming nearer, they found to be a child.
"What are you doing here?" said the baron, seizing her by the arm.
"Pardon!" exclaimed Josefina, overwhelmed with terror. "For goodness' sake don't beat me, señor! I have already been beaten so much."
The gentleman immediately loosened his hold, and changing his voice and tone, said:
"No, my child, no; nobody shall beat you. How do you come to be here at this hour?"
"My godmother has beaten me a good deal, and I ran away from home."
"Have you not a father?"
"No, señor."
"Do you live in Lancia?"