truth, but the combats of the past had left them hideous!

"I think we shall have a scorching day, Senor Licurgo," said the young
man, loosening his cloak a little. "What a dreary road! Not a single
tree to be seen, as far as the eye can reach. Here everything is in
contradiction. The irony does not cease. Why, when there are no poplars
here, either large or small, should this be called The Poplars?"

Uncle Licurgo did not answer this question because he was listening
with his whole soul to certain sounds which were suddenly heard in the
distance, and with an uneasy air he stopped his beast, while he explored
the road and the distant hills with a gloomy look.

"What is the matter?" asked the traveller, stopping his horse also.

"Do you carry arms, Don Jose?"

"A revolver--ah! now I understand. Are there robbers about?"

"Perhaps," answered the peasant, with visible apprehension. "I think I
heard a shot."

"We shall soon see. Forward!" said the young man, putting spurs to his
nag. "They are not very terrible, I dare say."

"Keep quiet, Senor Don Jose," exclaimed the peasant, stopping him.
"Those people are worse than Satan himself. The other day they murdered
two gentlemen who were on their way to take the train. Let us leave off
jesting. Gasparon el Fuerte, Pepito Chispillas, Merengue, and Ahorca
Suegras shall not see my face while I live. Let us turn into the path."