loose trousers—with, of course, bare feet; while they were smoking in the most unconcerned manner, as if they took their misfortunes lightly.
“Are you not disposed to punish those, who have destroyed your farm?” I asked.
I then told them of the corps which were being raised, and invited them to join. Their eyes brightened when I spoke of the possibility of driving the Spaniards for ever from the country. A woman who was with them, and who had remained seated beside a basket of provisions, started to her feet.
“Yes,” she exclaimed; “we shall never enjoy peace or prosperity until that has been accomplished! Pépé! Mariano! you will fight—we will all fight—for so good a cause.”
They agreed to come into the town after they had gone back to their farm and endeavoured to recover any of the cattle, pigs, or poultry which had escaped.
“There is little chance of that; the thieves will have carried off everything,” observed the woman.
As we could gain no further information from these persons, we resolved to try and make our way up the mountains, in the hope of either finding our friends, or hearing from other fugitives where they had taken shelter; but although we fell in with a few more people, our inquiries proved unsuccessful.
We had ridden some distance, when the dominie, who could see well ahead, exclaimed. “We shall either have to hide ourselves or ride for it! Those men are, I suspect, Spanish cavalry.”
To hide ourselves, owing to the nature of the ground, was scarcely possible, and almost before we had turned our horses’ heads, the enemy, for such undoubtedly they were, had discovered us. Our animals, too, from the rate at which we had come, were somewhat fatigued. We had only stopped once, to allow them to drink at a fountain.