“So the man who is here can’t escape.”
“What has the young man done?” asked La Temeraria, looking contemptuously at the soldier.
“He killed a man in Cordova about a month ago.”
At this moment, the innkeeper, who had been inside the house, returned shouting to the vestibule.
“Where is Fuensanta?” he asked his wife.
“She must be in her room.”
“She isn’t there.”
“Not there?”
“No. I just looked.”
El Mojoso and La Temeraria looked at each other furiously and understandingly.