t it will not do to bargain too closely for a man's life."

"Nor do I mean to do so," said the Count. "Here is the sum you name, and
something over. Who is your man?"

"Your senoria has heard of Romany Jaime, the gipsy _esquilador?_"

The Count made a movement of surprise.

"He is one of our spies; devoted to the general. You cannot think of
trusting him?"

"He is devoted to any body who pays him," returned Paco. "I knew him
well in former days, when I went to buy mules in the mountains of
Arragon. An arch rogue is Master Jaime, who will do any thing for gold.
I daresay he serves the general honestly, being well paid; but he will
look upon our job as a godsend, and jump at the chance."

"I doubt the plan," said the Count. "I am bent upon saving Herrera, and
have made up my mind to some risk; but this appears too great."

"And what need your senoria know about the matter at all?" said the
ready-witted Paco. "No one has seen me here; or, if any one has, nothing
will be thought of it. The money was given me by the prisoner--I arrange
the matter with Jaime, and to-morrow morning, when the escape is
discovered, who is to tax you with a share in it?"

"'Tis well," said the Count--"I leave all to you; and the more
willingly, as my further interference might rather excite suspicion than
prove of service. If you want money or advice, come to me. I shall
remain here the whole evening."

Upon leaving the Count's quarters, Paco lounged carelessly down the
street, with that listless think-of-nothing sort of air, which is one of
the characteristics of the Spanish soldier, till he arrived opposite to
a narrow passage between two houses, at the extremity of which was a
stile, and beyond it a green field, and the foliage of trees. Turning
down this lane, he entered the field, and crossed it in a diagonal
direction, till he reached its further corner. Here, on the skirt of a
coppice, and under the shade of some large chestnut-trees, a group was
assembled, and a scene presented itself, that might be sought for in
vain in any country but Spain. Above a wood-fire, which burned black and
smouldering in the strong daylight, a large iron kettle was suspended,
emitting an odour that would infallibly have turned the stomachs of more
squeamish or less hungry persons than those for whom its contents were
destined. It would have required an expert chemist to analyse the
ingredients of this caldron, of which the attendant Hecate was a
bare