And of these arms one pointed west and bore upon it the words: To Vigo; another pointed north with, on it, the words: To Lugo.
And seeing all this by the aid of a tinder box and lantern which we carried amongst our necessaries--seeing it, too, by craning our necks and standing up in our stirrups--we knew that we had now struck the route along which those must have come who had fled from Vigo after the taking of the galleons.
CHAPTER XVII.
MY GOD! WHO IS HE?
All that night we rode, yet slowly, too, for the sake of the horses, and in the morning--which broke bright, clear and frosty, the sun sparkling and shining gaily amongst the leafless branches and trees of the forests through which we passed--reached a little town, or village, about half way 'twixt the frontier and Lugo, a place called Chantada, and not far from another town named Orense, which, because it had a large population--as we gathered from a sight of its roofs and spires, all a-shining in the morning sun, as we could see very well from the mountains as we passed along them--we avoided. Also, we avoided it because it lay not so much upon our direct route, by some three or four leagues, as Chantada itself.
"Now, come what may," said I to Juan, as we drew near this place, "and even though we should be pursued from the border--which is not very like--we must stop here for some hours. We require rest ourselves; as for the beasts, they must have it; otherwise they will have to be left behind and others found. And that would be a pity--they are better than might have been looked for!" As, indeed, they were, especially considering the haphazard manner in which we had come by them, both having kept on untiring on the road, while, as for the jennet which Juan bestrode, it was, possibly because of his light weight, as fresh as on the hour we set out.
Then, turning to him, I said, even as I noticed that he showed no signs of fatigue--at which I marvelled somewhat!--and that his handsome face was as bright and full of colour as it had ever been:
"You must be a-weary, Juan? Three or four hours' sleep will do you a world of good. And you shall have it, my lad, even though I sit at your door with a drawn sword in my hand to prevent interruption."
As usual, he smiled that gracious, winsome smile upon me--a smile which was always forthcoming in response to any simple little kindness I evidenced to him--and said:
"I could ride on for hours thus--feel no fatigue. Maybe 'tis the brightness of the morning that heartens me so; perhaps the crisp coolness of these mountains--Heavens! how different 'tis from aught we know of in the Indies!--that makes me insensible to it! Yet, Mervan," and he gave me a glance from his eyes, under the dark and now dishevelled curls that hung almost over them, "there is one thing I long to do now. Mervan, do not refuse. I have earned the right!"