The count was some time before he could respond to Jack's greeting, so great was his emotion at the thought of the escape he had had from slaying the preserver of his wife and child. As soon as he recovered himself he hurried out to meet the peasants, whose shouts could be heard as they approached the castle. He soon returned and bade his servants take a cask of wine into the courtyard behind the house, with what bread and meat there might be in the larder.
“You had no trouble with them, I hope?” Jack asked.
“None whatever,” the count said. “As soon as I told them the circumstances under which you saved the life of the countess, my boy, and myself, their only wish was to see you and express their gratitude; they are simple fellows, these peasants, and if fairly treated greatly attached to their lords.”
“It's a pity their treatment of the prisoners is so savage,” Jack said dryly.
“They are savage,” the count said, “but you must remember that the history of Spain is one long story of war and bloodshed. They draw knives on each other on the slightest provocation, and in their amusements, as you know, there is nothing that in their eyes can rival a bullfight; it is little wonder, then, that in war they are savage and, as you would say, even bloodthirsty. This is not so in regular warfare. Whatever may have been the conduct of some of our irregulars, none have ever alleged that Spanish troops are less inclined to give quarter to conquered foes than others; but in this rough irregular warfare each peasant fights on his own account as against a personal enemy, and as he would expect and would meet with little mercy if he fell into the enemy's hands, so he grants no mercy to those who fall into his. Indeed, after the brutal treatment which Marshal Tesse has, I am ashamed to say, dealt out to those who opposed him, you can scarcely blame peasants for acting as they see civilized soldiers do.”
A short time afterward Jack went out with the count into the courtyard, and was received with the most hearty and cordial greeting by the men who were an hour before thirsting for his blood. Among them was the village mayor.
“Ah, sir,” he said, “why did you not tell us that you had saved the life of our lord and lady? You should have had all the horses in the district, and as many wagons of wine and grain as we could collect. We are all in despair that we should have attacked our lord's preserver.”
“I could not tell you,” Jack said, “because I was in ignorance that the Count de Minas was your lord; had I known it I should have assuredly gone straight to him.”
“We shall never forgive ourselves,” the man said, “for having killed four of your honor's soldiers.”
“I am sorry that it was so,” Jack said, “but I cannot blame you; and I am sorry that we on our part must have killed as many of yours.”