"It is Colonel Livenza, Ferdinand. You are lost. Holy Mother have pity on us! how can he have come here?"
"More treachery probably, somewhere," I replied, with an inward curse at the mischance; but then a thought occurred to me. There was a cupboard close to the door, and whispering hurriedly to Sarita, "Not a word to him of me; I believe I can save us;" I went into it, and closed the door upon myself.
Meanwhile the colloquy at the front door was proceeding.
"Yes, senor, I am the Mother Calvarro. Does your Excellency want provisions for your men, or forage for the horses?"
"No. I want the Carlists you have hidden in the house here."
"Carlists? I don't understand your Excellency. We are no Carlists here, but simple farming folk, and for the King, God bless him," said the old crone.
"Aye, King. I know your jargon. Which King? You're near enough to the grave, I should have thought, to speak the truth," answered the bully, roughly.
"Your Excellency can speak freely. I am an old woman, and have none to protect me here," was the retort, quietly spoken.
"My men will search the house; and look you, it will pay you best to help, not hinder us."
"I am too old either to help or hinder. Do your will."