"Ay de mí! Our old country house near Morata was shut up months ago; only one old man remains in charge. The garden must now be a waste. But I have friends at Calatayud, some miles farther away, and I could stay with them. It is quite sixty miles distant. Could I get there safely?"
"I think so. After the siege many peasants will be returning to their homes. I will enquire if any are going in that direction, and will let you know if I find some respectable people with whom you might travel. Your old duenna would, of course, go with you. And then I thought of lending you a special friend of my own, who has done me many a good turn; he is outside now—a young gipsy boy who—
"Pepito! Oh, he and I are good friends!"
"You know him, then?"
"Of course I do. He comes to see me every day, and talks about you all the time. Strange to say, he thinks a great deal of you, Jack."
"Poor little chap! I owe him a good deal. Well, he shall go with you, and you will make your way to Calatayud, and I will come to you there in—let me see, under a week. I shall have had enough of the Frenchmen in a week."
"But suppose you can't escape, Jack?"
"Never fear," said Jack with a smile. "That is all arranged, then?"
"Yes, I suppose so," replied Juanita doubtfully. "You will be sure to find me, Jack?"
"Unless you hide away—like your treasure."