Meanwhile, however, it was a nightmare; the sort of thing which a delirious chauffeur might dream and rave of, in a fever; and instead of improving, the way grew worse.
“Can it be possible those chaps deceived us on purpose?” I jerked out between chattering teeth, as the car sprang from one three-foot rut into another, in spite of Ropes' coaxing.
“I'll bet it's a trick of Carmona's,” gasped Dick, at the risk of biting his tongue. “I thought that fellow in the two hats looked a fox.”
“I did see them laughing when I glanced round after we passed,” said Pilar, as jumpily as if she rode a trotting horse. “But I—thought—they were pleased with the pesetas.”
“I expect they'd got more than we gave, to send us the wrong [pg 170]way,” growled Dick. “We must have been dreaming not to think of it.”
“We can't go about suspecting everyone we meet to be in Carmona's pay,” said I. “We'd be mistaken as often as right, and then we should feel small. After all, there isn't much harm done.”
“It's a wonder we haven't smashed something, sir,” sighed the much enduring Ropes.
“That's what Carmona prayed to his demons we would do,” said Dick.
“I'll back San Cristóbal against them all,” said I.
“Besides, there was the mule with the four white feet, and the goat-herd,” Pilar reminded me.