After remaining four days at Mercia, Arthur therefore turned his horse's head north. When he neared Albacete he heard that Cabrera had been making a raid from the Sierra de Val de Meca, and had swept down nearly to the city, harassing the country and carrying off much booty. Arthur was told that Cabrera had attacked and taken the Palazzo of the Count de Balen, so half an hour after entering the town he rode out to enquire after his friend. As they approached the house they saw smoke still rising from it. Putting their horses to a gallop they speedily arrived in front of the house, only, however, to find that it was a mere shell. As Arthur alighted, a man, whom he knew by sight, came out from a small outhouse.
"What has happened? Are the count and his sister safe?"
"Alas! no, sir," the man said. "The Carlists burst into the house yesterday morning. The count opposed them and was struck down desperately wounded. Donna Mercedes was carried off by them. They sacked the palace and then set it on fire. Three or four of the men were killed. I was away at Albacete. I found that some of the women had carried the young count out behind the house. He is in here."
Arthur hurried in.
"My dear Leon," he said, "this is terrible news that I hear!"
"Terrible," the other said faintly. "I am wounded badly, but that is nothing except that it will keep me a month before I am fit to act; but it is awful to think that Mercedes has fallen into the hands of that ruffian Cabrera. Thank God you have come! I know you will do all you can for me."
"Assuredly I will. In the first place, do you know which way the villains have gone?"
"Yes; they have gone up by La Roda. They will doubtless sack that place, and Minaya, and Villar Roblebo."
"Have you fresh horses?"
"No; they have driven every horse off."