"I will," gruffly replied the man, with a look which showed that he was sorry to be forced to choose the second alternative.
"Can we trust this fellow?" said the younger officer to the elder.
"No—but we can ourselves; and keep a sharp look-out."
"Besides, I shall give him a hint. Hidalgo mio——" he began.
"Señor Franzese," interrupted the muleteer.
"What puts that into your head, hidalgo? Franzese,—why, Don Felix y Cortos, y Sargas, y Nos, y Tierras, y, y,—don't you know an Englishman when you see him?"
"Yes," muttered the Spaniard—"Yes, and a Frenchman, too."
"No, you don't, for here's the proof. Why, what are we, but English officers, carrying despatches to your Conde from our General?"
The muleteer looked doubtingly.
"Why, do you suppose Frenchmen would trust themselves amongst such a set of"—