“No, Empecinado,” I returned—“I am as yet unpaid.”
“Go on, my friend.—What wouldst thou have me do?” said the Spaniard, graciously.
“Complete the favour—and add liberty to life.”
Juan Diez paused—looked at El Maneo and the Cura.
“What shall I answer? I swore that nothing should avert his doom—and thought nothing could have shaken the resolution.”
“I know that nothing human should have shaken mine,” observed El Maneo. “Life spared, liberty is a trifle—grant it, Juan Diez, if you please.”
“And I,” said the Cura, “will not object.—Great men have occasional weaknesses, and at times, I have found myself rather softer hearted than I should be. Empecinado, ’tis sinful to break an oath,—but Holy Church is merciful.—Hang me the first half dozen of these robbers who fall into your hands, and thou shalt have absolution; the penance—that thou shalt fast from flesh meat the first day when you cannot conveniently find it.”
At this merciful annunciation of the worthy clerk, Juan Diez laughed.
“I thank thee, Cura,” he replied; “but when I make my shrift, I will seek another confessor. Come, the morning passes, and ‘tis time we were wending towards the mountains. Gentlemen,” he continued, turning to the fosterer and me, “our short companionship is about to terminate. If gallantry could attach me to brwe men, and make me regret a separation, I should have abundant reason to grieve that I am about to lose ye; but, sooth to say, for our wild warfare you are not exactly fitted, and, like my excellent camarado, the Cura, you have a little too much softness at the heart. From intelligence I have received since we first met, I would advise you to abandon your original intention of crossing the mountains to Valencia. Suchet’s movements are suspicious,—the roads are unsafe—crowded with ladrones—all desperate men, who would respect no passports, were they guaranteed by every authority in Spain. If you choose to persevere——”
“No, Don Juan,” I replied; “I will return to the allied cantonments. I have, in obedience to orders, endeavoured to reach my regiment. I have failed; and, to say truth, I don’t regret it. I shall resign my commission, if required, and serve under Lord Wellington a volunteer.”