"Yes, ask her, for I did not come here unexpected, believe me, most worthy and much-injured Señor Patron," continued the cunning rogue as he leaped out of bed, and assisted by the tittering alguazils, put on his garments with all haste, while the wife of the poor alcalde gazed upon him speechless with rage at the inference and his accusation, while the magistrate himself was baffled and blanched by a new and vague sense of shame and consternation.
"My dear señora," said Fabrique, in a bland tone, as he tied on his sash and assumed his sombrero, "I regret extremely that you are weary of me—that my company is no longer pleasing to you, as of old; but it is very cruel of you to bring the neck of a poor lover so faithful as I into such deadly jeopardy, and I shall treasure this lesson of female perfidy, revenge, and caprice to my latest hour. Muchas gracias, señora, much good may your trick do you."
The lady was choking with anger and unmerited shame, while the cunning rogue continued,—
"Most worthy Señor Alcalde, most faithless and fickle señora, and you, most paltry and pitiful señores alguazils, I have the honour to wish you all a very good evening."
With a low bow and a mocking smile, he was about to depart, when one of the alguazils exclaimed,—
"Stop—seize him; by Santiago, 'tis Fabrique de Urquija!"
The face of the robber became black with fury; he drew his stiletto and rushed upon his discoverer, but was soon beaten down by the halberts and clubbed blunderbusses of the officials, by whom he was bound with cords and dragged to prison without delay.
He was soon tried in due form, and though the whole town rang with his terrible exploits, and the women praised his handsome figure, his reckless courage, and the great tact and skill by which he had so nearly eluded the pot-bellied Alcalde, he was sentenced "to be garotted at twelve o'clock to-day."
Such was the detail given to us by the Spanish officer.
As we neared San Roque, we found great crowds from remote parts of the judicial partido, all clad in the picturesque and antique costumes of the province, ascending the mountain on which the town is situated, and all anxious to behold the dying demeanour of the most famous of Spanish bandits—the greatest since Manuel Francisco was shot at Cordova two years ago.