to direct speech he could understand their
language well enough. Nor did they indulge in over-brutal handling;
they kept a measure and reminded him sufficiently of old England's own
highwaymen. Of course, like old England's own, they would become
atrocious if they thought that circumstances indicated it. But they
did not seem inclined to go out of their way to be murderous or
tormenting. The only sensible course was to take things good-naturedly
and as all in the song! The worst that might happen would be that he
must proceed to France afoot, without a penny, lacking weapons, Don
Fernando's cloak--all things, in short, but the bare clothing he stood
in. To make loss as small as possible there were in order suavity,
coolness, even gaiety!

And still appeared the perplexing something he could not resolve. The
over-fine cloak, the horse now in good condition, might have something
to do with it, contrasting as they certainly did with the purse in
the last stages of emaciation. And there seemed a studying of his
general appearance, of his features, even. Two men in especial
appeared detailed to do this. At last his ear caught the word
"ransom."

Now there was nobody in Spain knowing enough or caring enough of or
for Ian Rullock to entertain the idea of parting with gold pieces in
order to save his life. Don Fernando might be glad to see him live,
but certainly had not the gold pieces! Moreover, it presently leaked
fantastically out that the bandits expected a large ransom. He began
to suspect a mistake in identity. That assumption, increasing in
weight, became certainty. They looked him all around, they compared
notes, they regarded the fine cloak, the refreshed steed. "English,
senor, English?"

"Scots. You do not understand that? Cousin to English."

"English. We had word of your traveling--with plenty of gold."

"It is a world of mistakes. I travel, but I have no gold."

"It is a usual lack of memory of the truth. We find it often. You are
traveling with escort--with another of your nation, your brother, we
suppose. There are servants. You are rich. For some great freak you
leave all in the town down there and ride on alone. Foreigners often
act like madmen. Perhaps you meant to return to the town. Perhaps to
wait for them in the inn below the pass. You have not gold in your
purse because there is bountiful gold just behind you. Why hurt the
beautiful truth? Sancho and Pedro here were in the inn-yard last
night."