en only in the
neatest and most noble of clothes,--looking more like a couple of
scarecrows than living men.

Don Sanchez neither smiled nor frowned at this treatment, taking this
misfortune with the resignation of a philosopher; only to quiet Dawson's
merriment he told him that in the clothes taken from him was sewed up a
bond for two hundred pounds, but whether this was true or not I cannot
tell.

And now, to bring an end to this adventure, we were taken down the
intricate passes of the mountain in the moonlight, as many of the gang
as could find mules coming with us for escort, and brought at last to
the main road, where we were left with nought but what we stood in (save
Moll's two pieces), the robbers bidding us their adios with all the
courtesy imaginable. But even then, robbed of all he had even to the
clothes of his back, Don Sanchez's pride was unshaken, for he bade us
note that the very thieves in Spain were gentlemen.

As we trudged along the road toward Ravellos, we fell debating on our
case, as what we should do next, etc., Don Sanchez promising that we
should have redress for our ill-treatment, that his name alone would
procure us a supply of money for our requirements, etc., to my great
content. But Dawson was of another mind.

"As for seeking redress," says he, "I would as soon kick at a hive for
being stung by a bee, and the wisest course when you've been once bit by
a dog is to keep out of his way for the future. With respect of getting
money by your honour's name, you may do as you please, and so may you,
Kit, if you're so minded. But for my part, henceforth I'll pretend to be
no better than I am, and the first suit of rags I can get will I wear in
the fashion of this country. And so shall you, Moll, my dear; so make up
your mind to lay aside your fine airs and hold up your nose no longer as
if you were too good for your father."

"Why, surely, Jack," says I, "you would not quit us and go from your
bargain."

"Not I, and you should know me well enough, Kit, to have no doubt on
that score. But 'tis no part of our bargain that we should bustle
anybody but Simon the steward."

"We have four hundred miles to go ere we reach Elche," says Don Sanchez.
"Can you tell me how we are to get there without money?"

"Aye, that I can, and I warrant my plan as good as your honour's. How
many tens are there in four hundred, Kit?"

"Forty."

"Well, we can walk ten miles a day on level ground, and so may do