"The eagles!"
"Exactly—but I forget that you are a stranger and don't understand me," replied the other, laughing.
"Adios, senor," said Quentin, preparing to start.
"Adios, senor soldado—adios, vaya!"
The Spaniard pocketed his book of fables, threw his mantle over his left shoulder, grasped his cajado, and waving his hat, proceeded to ascend with great activity a steep zigzag path up the mountain side, while Quentin Kennedy pursued his solitary way, which opened into a level district covered with green orange, lemon, and olive groves; and though the warnings of his late acquaintance did not fail to impress him with anxiety, he felt hopeful that he would achieve in safety and with honour the duty assigned him—escaping the perils that might be set him, and the deadly snare into which Cosmo hoped he might fall.
CHAPTER XV.
THE MULETEERS.
"Riper occasions will thy valour claim,
Danger comes on; Typhœus-like it comes,
Whose fabled stature every hour increased."
AQUILEIA—Old Tragedy.
While Quentin travelled onward, thinking over his recent meeting at the well, and puzzling himself about the enigma that was probably concealed by the words of the stranger concerning the eagles having news for Portugal, he was roused from his reverie by the jangling of bells, and ere long a string of mules, all sleek, well-fed, of dapple-colour, and in size larger than any he had ever seen, appeared in view, descending with sure and steady steps a narrow rocky path between the olive and orange groves that covered the steep mountain side.
He paused for a moment to permit the string or line, which consisted of twelve mules, to pass along the road in front; but the three muleteers in charge, all hardy and sturdy fellows in gaudily braided and embroidered jackets of purple or olive green cloth, smart sombreros, and gay scarfs, accoutred with ivory-hafted knives and brass-butted pistols, hailed him immediately, asked whither he was going, and courteously, with cries of "Viva los Inglesos! viva el Rey!" offered him a draught of wine from the leathern bota that hung at the neck of Madrina, and in a trice he found himself accompanying them on their way.