time, he certainly struck me as having fasted for eight-and-forty hours
at the very least. He ate like a starving wolf, and I thought to myself
that my appearance must really have been quite providential for the poor
fellow. Meanwhile my guide ate but little, drank still less, and spoke
never a word, although in the earlier part of our journey he had proved
himself a most unrivalled chatterer. He seemed ill at ease in the
presence of our guest, and a sort of mutual distrust, the cause of which
I could not exactly fathom, seemed to be between them.

The last crumbs of bread and scraps of ham had disappeared. We had each
smoked our second cigar; I told the guide to bridle the horses, and was
just about to take leave of my new friend, when he inquired where I was
going to spend the night.

Before I had time to notice a sign my guide was making to me I had
replied that I was going to the Venta del Cuervo.

"That's a bad lodging for a gentleman like you, sir! I'm bound there
myself, and if you'll allow me to ride with you, we'll go together."

"With pleasure!" I replied, mounting my horse. The guide, who was
holding my stirrup, looked at me meaningly again. I answered by
shrugging my shoulders, as though to assure him I was perfectly easy in
my mind, and we started on our way.

Antonio's mysterious signals, his evident anxiety, a few words dropped
by the stranger, above all, his ride of thirty leagues, and the far from
plausible explanation he had given us of it, had already enabled me
to form an opinion as to the identity of my fellow-traveller. I had
no doubt at all I was in the company of a smuggler, and possibly of a