"By San Juan I have not, general! The robe I wear, and the letter of the corregidor of Merida, sufficiently attest my veracity. I have erred through ignorance, not intention."
"I pray it may be so," said Sir Rowland in a kinder tone. "God forbid I should wrong an honest man! But where lies the village of Almarez—"
At that moment the flash of a cannon a long way down the mountains, among whose shattered peaks the report was reverberated, answered the question.
By the time which elapsed between the sight of the flash and the sound of the report, it seemed to be fired about a mile distant. "The morning gun,—that is Almarez," muttered the soldiers.
"Caballeros y soldados!" cried the priest with sudden energy, "I have been no traitor, as you seem to suppose me. In truth I knew not the road,—by San Jago de Compostella I did not! To-morrow night, without fail, I will guide you to the gates of Almarez. I tell you this as truly as that every maravedi of my reward shall go to the shrine of my good Lady of Majorga, whom some rogues have lately plundered of her robes."
"Unhand his bridle," said Sir Rowland; "I must believe him. Major, what think you?'
"There is no alternative," replied the major of brigade; "but as the regulations say, 'Guides cannot be too jealously watched;' and again in page—"
"'Tis a waste of time to expound the regulations to a man, whose knowledge is confined to his bible and mass-book," replied the general with a smile. "We will retire up the mountains, and lie concealed till favoured again by the darkness. Let the column break into sections, and move off left in front. Colonel Cameron, your Highlanders will lead the way."
A solitary place of concealment was gained among the rugged mountains of the Lina, where the bivouac was hidden from the sentinels on the castle of Miravete.
The officers anxious to lead that most desperate, but gallant of all military enterprises, the forlorn hope in the intended assault, were requested to send their names to the general. In spite of all that Macdonald and his more cautious friends could say to dissuade Ronald from so heedlessly exposing himself to danger, the fiery young Highlandman offered to lead the storming-party. He well knew how great was the danger, and how little the chance of escape, attending those who headed the forlorn band; but he was animated by no ordinary feelings, and spurred on by the most powerful of all human passions,—love and ambition. With these inspiring his soul, what is it that a brave man feels himself unequal to encounter and overcome? Ronald was also eager to distinguish himself, to gain the favour of the general, the applause of the troops, the freedom of Catalina, and the admiration—alas! he could no longer look for the love of Alice Lisle.