"Holla, there!" Ernest called out; "you have forgotten your money;" and he held out a purse, but the man was gone. "Va donc, et que le diable t'emporte, brutal!" added Ernest de Lucenay; taking good care, however, this time, that the ebullition of his feelings was not loud enough to reach the ears of the retreating peasant. "Confound it! I would rather follow the track of a tiger through the pathless depth of an Indian jungle alone, than be led by such a savage cicerone."
"Never mind the fellow; we have more than enough to think of in our own affairs," exclaimed his friend, impatiently. "Let us stop here a moment and consult, before we proceed any further. One thing is evident, at all events, that we must contrive to disguise ourselves better if we wish to pass for any thing but Frenchmen. With my knowledge of the English language, and acquaintance with their manners and habits, trifling as it is, I am perfectly certain of imposing on the Spaniards, without any difficulty; but you will as certainly cause a blow up, unless you manage to alter your whole style and appearance. I daresay you have forgotten all my instructions already."
"Bah! Alphonse. Let me alone for puzzling the dons; I'll be as complete a Goddam in five minutes as any stick you ever saw, I warrant you."
"Nothing can appear more perfectly un-English than you do at present. That éveillé look of yours is the very devil;" and Alphonse shook his head, despondingly.
"Incredulous animal! just hold Nero for five minutes, and you shall have ocular demonstration of my powers of acting. Parbleu! you shall see that I can be solemn and awkward enough to frighten half the petites maîtresses of Paris into the vapours." And, so saying, De Lucenay sprang from his saddle, and consigning the bridle into his friend's hands, ran towards a little brook, which trickled through the grass at a short distance from the roadside; but not before he had made his friend promise to abstain from casting any profane glances on his toilet till it was accomplished.
Wisely resolving to avoid temptation, Alphonse turned away, when, to his surprise, he perceived the muleteer halting on a rising ground at a little distance. "By Jove! that insolent dog has been watching us. Scoundrel, will you move on?" he exclaimed in French, raising his voice angrily, when, suddenly recollecting himself, he terminated the unfinished phrase by "Sigue tu camin! Picaro! Bribon!" while he shook his pistol menacingly at the man's head—a threat which did not seem to intimidate him much, for, though he resumed his journey, his rich sonorous voice burst triumphantly forth into one of the patriotic songs; and long after he had disappeared from their eyes, the usual ritournelle, "Viva Fernando! Muera Napoleon!" rang upon the air.
This short interval had more than sufficed for De Lucenay's mysterious operations. And before his friend was tired of fuming and sacreing against Spain and Spaniards, Ernest tapped him on the shoulder, and for once both the young officer's anger and habitual gravity vanished in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. "By Jupiter! it is incredible," he gasped forth, as soon as returning breath would allow him to speak: while Ernest stood silently enjoying his surprise.
"Well, what think you? It will do, will it not? Are you still in fear of a fiasco?"
"Nay! My only fear now is, that the pupil will eclipse the master, and that the more shining light of your talents will cast mine utterly into the shade. By heavens! the transformation is inimitable. Your own father would not know you."
"He would not be the only one in such an unhappy case, then."