“You are friends of that dark brigand, whom you call the Empecinado?” observed the French commandant.
“It is indeed a proud distinction you confer, in calling us friends of that bold enemy to French oppression.”
“You share his confidence?” continued the colonel.
“Undoubtedly,” returned the elder; “ay, and I believe as much as any living men.”
“You knew his errand here, then?”
“Yes.”
“Name it!”
Both the partidas laughed contemptuously
“You trifle with me, villains! But, by Heaven! I will no longer trifle with you. Cammaran,” he said to a voltigeur, “get your men under arms; throw the gates of the court-yard open; admit the villagers, and prepare for an instant execution. Let twelve files load; we’ll join you in five minutes.”
The officer left the room, and the old soldier thus continued:—