mountain horse, rode out of the gloom into the
fire-light, threw himself from his saddle, and stood within three paces
of the Christino officer. By the blaze, Herrera recognized, with some
surprise, one whom he believed to be then in the Carlist ranks.

"Paco!" he exclaimed; "you here? Whence do you come, and what are your
tidings?"

The corporal, who had acted as master of the ceremonies to Paco, now
returned to his fire, and Herrera and the muleteer remained alone. The
latter had got rid of all vestiges of uniform, and appeared in the garb
which he had been accustomed to wear, before his devotion to Count
Villabuena, and the feeling of partisanship for Don Carlos, which he
shared with the majority of Navarrese, had led him to enter the ranks.

"I have much to tell you, Don Luis," said he; "and my news is bad. Count
Villabuena is dead."

Instead of manifesting astonishment or grief at this intelligence,
Herrera replied calmly, and almost with a smile, "Is that all?"

"All!" repeated Paco, aghast at such unfeeling indifference; "and
enough, too. I did not think, that because you had taken different
sides, all kindness was at an end between you and the Conde. His
senoria, heaven rest him!"--and here Paco crossed himself--"deserved
better of you, Don Luis. But for him your bones would long ago have been
picked by the crows. It was he who rescued you when you were a prisoner,
and ordered for execution."

"I know it, Paco," replied Herrera, "and I am grateful for my
deliverance both to you and him. But you are mistaken about his death. I
saw and spoke to the Count not three days ago."

"To the Count! to Count Villabuena?" exclaimed Paco. "Then that damned
gipsy lied. He told me he was killed, shot by some of your people. How
did you see him? Is he a prisoner?"

"The Count is alive and in safety, and that must satisfy you for the
moment. But you have doubtless more to tell me. What of Dona Rita? Why
and when did you leave the Carlists, and where was she when you left?"

"Since the Count is well," returned Paco, "the worst part of my news is
to come. Dona Rita's own handwriting will best answer your question."

Opening his knife, Paco ripped up a seam of his jacket, and extracted
from the lining a soiled and crumpled paper. It was the letter written
by Rita to Zumalacarregui. By the light of the fire Herrera devoured its
contents. From them he learned all that Rita herself knew of the place
and reasons of her capti