This was an answer to both my questions. The monk on perceiving it, offered no further explanation.
“Their sole motive was plunder, I suppose?”
“Ah, señor, I wish I could think so!”
“You believe they had some other object?”
“Alas! yes. Look there, caballero!”
The priest pointed to the dead body of the young man, whom he had represented as the son of the Juez de Letras. He was lying with face upwards. I could see upon his breast the sparkle of gold—the guard-chain of a watch—and inside the vest a shape showing that the watch was itself there!
“This is strange,” I said. “Are you sure they were regular robbers who did this?”
“Sure—sure!” replied the padre, with a melancholy shake of the head. “Too sure, caballero. ’Tis true they wore masks, and I could not see their faces. But I heard a name that told me all. I heard it as they passed out, carrying the muchachas along with them.”
“What name?” I asked, with a painful presentiment.
“Ah, señor capitan; one too well known upon these roads.”