"Adieu!" and he returned to his dark post.
The adventurer and his peon turned round; they soon found themselves again on the Plaza Mayor, but crossed it without stopping. Don Jaime seemed to know what directions he should follow, for he galloped without hesitation through the streets; he soon reached the garita of San Antonio, which he passed without stopping: some market gardeners were already beginning to enter the city. On arriving about six hundred paces from the garita, at a spot forming a square, the centre of which is occupied by a stone cross, and from which six wide but badly kept roads radiate, the adventurer halted again, and as on the first occasion, gave a shrill whistle. At the same instant, a man lying at the foot of the cross, rose and stood motionless before him.
"A man has passed here," don Jaime said, "mounted on a skewbald horse, and wearing a hat with a gold golilla?"
"The man has passed," the stranger answered.
"How long ago?"
"An hour."
"Was he alone?"
"Yes."
"Which direction did he take?"
"That," the stranger answered, stretching out his arm toward the second road on the left.