was Don Alfonso; he was, like me, seeking for means of livelihood.

It came on to rain very heavily as we were skirting the base of a
mountain, and, in looking about for some place of shelter, we found a
cave in which an aged, white-haired hermit was living. At first he was
not pleased to see us, but something about me seemed to strike him
favourably, and he then gave us a kind welcome. We tied our horses to a
tree, and prepared to stay the night. The hermit began to talk to us in
a very pious and edifying way, when another aged anchorite ran into the
cave, and said, "It is all over; we're discovered. The police are after
us!"

The first hermit tore off his white beard and his hair, and took off his
long robe, showing a doublet beneath; and his companion followed his
example. In a few moments they were changed into a couple of young men
whose faces I recognised.

"Raphael! Lamela! What mischief are you working now? And where are my
thousand ducats, you rascals?"

"Ah, Gil Blas, I knew you at once!" said Raphael blandly. "One comes on
old acquaintances when one least expects them. I know we treated you
badly. But the money's gone, and can't be recovered. Come with us, and
we will soon make up to you all that you have lost."

It was certainly unwise to remain in a cave which the police were about
to visit, and, as the rain had ceased and the night had fallen, we all
set out in the darkness to find some better shelter. We took the road to
Requena, and came to a forest, where we saw a light shining in the
distance. Don Alfonso crept up to the spot, and saw four men sitting