He listened attentively until I had concluded, and my harangue had been translated into French; and then, compressing his eyebrows, and looking earnestly at me, repeated, “Collected at El Burgo, you say?”
“Si, Señor.”
“And in what force?”
I stated a very exaggerated number.
“And how many of the facciosos may there be at Grazalema?”
“Some forty or fifty.”
“This appears to be an intelligent rascal, Leboucher,” said his excellency, now addressing his aide-de-camp; who, standing at the fireplace, had been attentively perusing a paper hanging against the wall, from which, however, he from time to time turned round, to take a look at me. “This appears to be an intelligent rascal, but his information differs in toto from that furnished by the other. Keep your eye upon him, therefore, whilst I put a few more questions, but do not let him perceive that you are watching him.”
“I have had my eye upon him,” replied Mr. Butcher, “and, strange to say, the fellow corresponds in many respects with the description I have before me of El Ratonero.”
“Diable!” exclaimed the governor, “give it me;” and he cast his eye hastily over the paper handed to him, without once looking up at me. This was most fortunate; for, from the dangerous situation in which I found myself placed, my countenance would, probably, have betrayed me, notwithstanding all my efforts to appear unconcerned, had one glance been directed towards me, especially had any questions been put to me at the moment. Fortunately, I say, however, the governor did not look up, nor say a word to me, until he had perused the paper which his aide-de-camp presented, and drew his attention to; but then, suddenly fixing his quick little eyes upon me, he asked rapidly, as if to throw me off my guard, “Do you know one Blas Malditado?”
“Blas who, did your excellency say?” asked I, affecting not to know whom he meant.