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I had secured a good saddle mule, but with a man's saddle, and my wife was sensible enough not to make an outcry over the prospect of a ride man-fashion. She came out warmly clad and mounted the mule, and I strapped some rugs and a bundle of lunch behind the saddle. The owner of the mule was at his head, halter in hand, ready to lead off. The entire population were out staring open-mouthed. I delivered a speech to my lucky-unlucky thirteen, telling them in the best way I could that I was going in order to deliver them all over to the vengeance of the military chief of the district. That I should accuse them as robbers and thieves, and that they might look for anguish that would wring their hearts and souls.

They were greatly moved, and, pulling out my watch, I informed them by pantomime and bad Spanish that if they got the teams in harness and the luggage all packed on the carts in twenty minutes I would take them into my favor and resume our journey southward.

Spaniards are proverbially slow. But these Spaniards were not slow, and a very few minutes saw us all once more mounted on our cart, with the two baggage carts following, and on our rocky way southward.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

FEAR SAYS "NO" TO HAPPINESS.

We passed during the day a military post and several squads of armed men. Poor fellows! they were wretchedly equipped, so far as garments went. They all examined us curiously, but did not offer to stop or question us while I marched on ahead of the cavalcade like a drum major, giving the military salute to each party as we passed. I ought to have been fatigued, but I was not. After about five miles of uphill work we began to descend. The road was a masterpiece of engineering, and well it might be, for it was one of five military roads the great Napoleon ordered to be constructed across the Pyrenees, and it was done in a thoroughly workmanlike manner. It wound in and out and along defiles of stern beauty.

We halted for rest and refreshment at noon, and again at 4 o'clock for an hour. At the last place we found some Carlist officers, one a young Englishman, who was a good fellow and most attentive. He was an aide-de-camp on Don Carlos' staff. He told me there was no chance of his side winning, but he was in it for the fun of the thing and in hope of seeing some fighting. He had taken part in a number of skirmishes, and was by no means satisfied yet. He volunteered to escort us through the lines, and was evidently more than pleased to meet an English lady in the person of my wife.

It was beautiful to see him order about my muleteers and bully them up hill and down dale, not hesitating to use his whip on them. About 5 o'clock we started off in great shape, having some twenty miles to go to the little town on the railway south of the Pyrenees. We had two lanterns and a number of torches; it was a picturesque caravan in the darkness. The young officer rode beside the first cart, conversing with my wife, while I walked in the rear. We had reason to congratulate ourselves over our escort, he being a brave and brilliant fellow and evidently a person of importance. He little thought whom he was escorting. I was pleased on my wife's account, as he was company for her, and, altogether, she thoroughly enjoyed the novelty of the whole situation.