the venerable assassin. "_Dime, viejo_; do you know me? And why do you
seek my life?"

"_Si, si, te conozes_. You are the Empecinado--the bloody Empecinado.
Give me back my Pedro, whom you murdered. _Ay di me! mi Pedrillo, te han
matado!_"

And the old man's frame quivered with rage, as he glared on the
Empecinado with an expression of unutterable hate.

One of the guerillas stepped forward--

"'Tis old Gutierrez, the father of Pedro, who was hung in the Piñares de
Coca, for betraying us to the French."

"Throw his carbine into yonder pool, and leave the poor wretch," said
the Empecinado; "his son deserved the death he met."

"He missed his aim to-day, but he may point truer another time," said
one of the men, half drawing a pistol from his holster.

"Harm him not!" said the Empecinado sternly, and the party rode on.

"_Maldito seas_!" screamed the old man, casting himself in the dust of
the road, in a paroxysm of impotent fury. "_Maldito! Maldito! Ay de mi!
mi Pedrillo!_"

And his curses and lamentations continued till the guerillas were out of
hearing.