“I do; they have stopped here several times to bait their horses on the way backwards and forwards to Alhama; but they are likely to send their despatches under a more numerous escort for the future, if the news be true that a band of guerrillas has made its appearance close to Granada; though they have, as they say, cut it to pieces. But let us draw near, and hear their story—of which I had only caught a few words when you called me away.”
“I can probably give you a better account of it than they,” said I; “therefore, tell me first what sort of men are they? Think you a couple of resolute fellows could master them readily?”
“For the matter of that,” replied Pacheco, “the Cabo is, I suspect, a determined dog; but the young fellow, who accompanies him, seems, like most of his countrymen, to have mas viento que fuego[192] about him.”
“Do they smoke?”
“Like two Carboneras.”[193]
“That will do; now let us go and hear what the braggarts have to say;” and, drawing my Capa round so as to conceal the lower part of my face, I joined the circle of gobemouches.
The younger of the two Frenchmen, with much gesticulation, and in very bad Spanish, was giving an account of the action between my band and his countrymen. It was well I had been there, otherwise, I certainly should never have recognized it for the same affair; since he maintained that we had been completely worsted—our chief and upwards of half the band left dead upon the field, and the remainder dispersed in all directions!
“Were no prisoners made?” said I—having first ascertained by a glance all round that no old acquaintances were in the group of listeners.
“Prisoners, mon brave,” replied he; “pas un seul—Sacristie! we speared them like wild boars, without giving them time to translate quartel[194] into French.”