The brigand's colour came and he grew vicious.
"If you are wise, you'll not try to fool me," he said.
"If you have any wit," retorted the new-comer, "you'll not come pestering me with questions; I'm not in the humour, and when I am put out, I'm dangerous. Good-morning."
The brigand, finding he could get nothing out of the eccentric stranger, fell back a pace or two, and the latter thought that he was to be molested no further.
He was mistaken.
Nor was he long in making this discovery.
The withdrawal of the brigand was a signal for a regular mob of the lawless men to make their appearance.
Every nook and cranny about the opening was guarded by armed men; and now, when the cool stranger glanced up-wards, he found a dozen rifles, pistols or blunderbusses pointed at him.
Still he did not appear disconcerted.
He only glanced about him with a coolness that was remarkable, and muttered—