large stable where they were quartered, grumbling at the routine of duty that had consigned them to the dulness of the depot, while their comrades were riding over the country, and perhaps engaged with the enemy. After having sufficiently lamented their hard fate in being left to ennuyer themselves in an insignificant Castilian town, and after having discussed, without coming to any satisfactory conclusion, the means by which the Empecinado had slipped through their fingers, some of the idlers were making a move in the direction of a neighbouring tavern, and others, stretching themselves on the straw inside the open door of the stable, seemed disposed to indulge in a forenoon nap, when a shrill voice from the further end of the street called the attention of both the sleepy and the thirsty. "Barquillos! Barquillos! Quien quiere barquillos!" The person who uttered this cry, common enough in the Spanish towns, was a woman who carried, suspended from her arm by a broad leathern strap, a tin-box nearly three feet in height, serving as a receptacle for a quantity of the thin wafer-like cakes called barquillos, and having a sort of dialplate painted on its circular top. "Vamos, senores; a provar la suerte. Try your luck, sirs," said the wandering cake-merchant, setting down her moveable warehouse, and giving a vigorous spin to the brass needle poised in the centre of the dial. The Barquillera was a strapping wench of some five-and-twenty years of age apparently, whose lower person acquired additional amplitude from a multiplicity of coloured woollen petticoats, while a tight boddice of coarse black stuff encased her broad shoulders and well-defined bust. Her hair, instead of hanging in a plait down the back, was tucked up, probably to protect it from the dust of the roads, under a straw hat, whose wide leaf had, however, been insufficient to keep the sun from her face, which was tanned almost a mahogany colour. Her features were regular, although somewhat large and coarse, and when she pushed her sombrero a little back upon her head, and cast her great black eyes around with an assured and smiling glance, she exhibited quite sufficient charms to secure the attention and admiration of the soldiers. Taking up her station at the stable-door, she repeated her cry of "Barquillos," and thelight-hearted Frenchmen, crowding around in high glee at having found the means of killing a few minutes, began twirling the needle, at a rate that bid fair to empty the tin box and fill the barquillera's pocket with copper coins. "Mille sabres! quelle gaillarde!" exclaimed an old dragoon, bestowing an admiring glance on the wide shoulders and well set-up figure of the barquillera, “hang me, if I don't think an army of such stout-built lasses would have a better chance of successfully opposing our troops, than any Spanish division I ever yet set eyes on." "They would have as good a one at any rate," said another soldier sneeringly. "I see no reason that a hard-fisted peasant girl should not pull a trigger from behind a tree, or a bank, as well as any he-guerilla that ever carried a rifle." "Every one has his own way of fighting," replied the first speaker, " and I am not sure that the Spanish way is the worst. They know they cannot stand against us in a fair charge on the plain, and so they take to bush fighting. But they are not altogether to be despised, when a fellow like this Empecinado manages to keep a whole division running after him for weeks and months, without being able to catch a sight of his horse's tail. I trust they soon will, though, and have a pull at it too. At any rate, we have got him out of these mountains, which is one point gained." The cakes having all disappeared, some wine was sent for, of which the barquillera partook, joining in the conversation of the soldiers, and replying with much readiness, and in a mixture of Spanish and bad French to their rude jokes and witticisms. After half an hour spent in this way, she took up her box and prepared to depart. "Adios, senors, y muchas gracias," said she, turning round when a few paces from the dragoons, and laughing so as to display a row of brilliant white teeth. The soldiers were already moving off in various directions, some to their quarters and others to the wine-shop; but one of them, either inclined for a stroll, or seduced by the good looks of the barquillera, lounged down the street in her company. They soon reached the extremity of the town on the side looking towards the mountains; but the dragoon, amused by the lively chatter of his companion, paid little attention to the direction she was taking, and was nearly half a-mile from the last houses, when he remembered that it might be unsafe to proceed much further, at a time and in a country where the ploughman and vine-dresser pursued their labours with a gun lying in the furrow beside them, ready for a shot at any straggling Frenchman. Before turning back, however, he threw an arm round the barquillera's waist, and made an attempt to kiss her. She held him off for an instant, and looked behind her as though to see if any one were following them along the road. Not a creature was in sight, and she no longer opposed the young Frenchman's embrace. But as his lips touched her cheek, a piercing cry burst from them, and the dragoon fell backwards, a dead The barquillera remained standing in the middle of the path, curiously inspecting a long glittering knife she held in her hand. There was a small stain of blood within an inch of the haft, which she carefully wiped off, and then buckling the sabre of the dead soldier round her own waist, she plunged into a thicket that bordered the road. man. On the same morning on which this incident occurred, the Empecinado was walking up and down in front of the Benedictine monastery, in company with one of the monks. His charger and those of his troop were there, saddled and bridled in readiness for a march, and the guerillas stood about in groups, fully equipped, and apparently only waiting the order to mount and away. Presently a horse was pushed full speed up the steep rocky path leading to the monastery, and a lad of eighteen in his shirt sleeves, and with a woman's straw hat upon his head, but armed with a sabre, flung himself off. "What news, Pedrillo?" asked Diez. "Have you been into the town?" "I have so, Senor," replied the youth, "and might have stopped there all day, before those muddle-headed gavachos would have found out my disguise. Besides, they believe you to be far enough off-in Arragon at the nearest. I have spoken with several of them, and they are entirely off their guard. One fellow, indeed, was kind enough to accompany me out of the town, but I doubt if he will find his way into it again." "And why not?" enquired Diez. The peasant made no reply by words, but slightly touched the haft of a knife sticking in his girdle. "Mount!" shouted the Empecinado, and his men sprang into their saddles. The unsuspicious Frenchmen were dispersed about the streets, and had leit only half a dozen men on guard in their stable, when the Empecinado and his band charged at headlong speed into Covarrubias. Proceeding straight to the barracks, the guard was overpowered and disarmed without a shot being fired, and the guerillas began hunting down the remaining dragoons, who fled in every direction, some secreting themselves in the houses, and others even leaving the town and seeking concealment in the vineyards. But none of them escaped, for many of the town's people and peasants joined in the chase, and showed themselves even more merciless than the guerillas, knowing, that if they left one man alive to relate the share they had taken in the affair, their necks would not be worth an hour's purchase on the return of the French division. About fifty horses, and a large number of mules belonging to the commissariat, fell into the hands of the Empecinado, who immediately sent them off to the monastery in charge of the greater part of his men, in order that they might be placed for security in the vast caverns existing in the mountains of Arlanza-caverns that date from the time of the Moors, and which the famous Count of Castile, Don Fernan Gonzalez, used as magazines for his warlike stores and munitions. The horses and mules had been gone some time, when the Empecinado heard from the alcalde, what he had not been previously aware of, that every day ten dragoons belonging to the garrison of Lerma were sent to patrol the road between that town and Covarrubias, which latter place they reached at three in the afternoon, and after a short delay, returned to the garrison. The Em pecinado immediately formed the project of waylaying and attacking this patrol, although he had only six men with him, and there was no time to send up to the mountain for more. He set off in the direction of Lerma, and halting at the village of Torduelles, enquired if the French had yet been seen. Being answered that they had not, but were momentarily expected, he placed his men in ambush behind a dead wall in a field, which was level with the road, and merely separated from it by a small ditch. After waiting a few minutes, the jingling, clattering noise of cavalry on the march was heard, and as the leading files passed the end of the wall where the Empecinado was stationed, he gave the word to charge, and with his favourite war-cry of "Viva la Independencia," cleared the ditch, and fell like a thunderbolt on the French patrol. The surprise and suddenness of the attack compensated for the difference of numbers, and only two of the dragoons escaped. These two men, on reaching Lerma, made a somewhat exaggerated report of the force by which they had been attacked; and the officer commanding there, exasperated beyond measure at being thus harassed by a guerilla, turned out the greater part of the garrison, and at daybreak the next morning arrived at Covarrubias, where he received the further intelligence of the surprise of that place on the previous day. The rapid movements of the Empecinado, and the division he had made of his band into four parties, completely puzzled the French, who one moment heard of his being thirty or forty leagues off, and the next found him falling upon their own outposts: so that by this time they began to think there must be three or four Empecinados instead of one, and with far larger forces than they had hitherto suspected, or than he actually had. It was determined to make an effort to get rid at least of the band which was in the sierra of Arlanza. Couriers were sent to order down fresh troops from Soria, La Rioja, Vitoria, and other places; and the pursuit recommenced with so much vigour and such overwhelming numbers, that the Empecinado found it would be impossible to keep concealed even with the small force that accompanied him. He sent off twenty men, therefore, by parties of three and four, with orders to make the best of their way to the province of Palencia, where Mariano Fuentes then was. He himself, with five men, remained at the village of Ontorio del Pinar to observe the movements of the enemy. But it seemed to be ordained, that that sex which an eastern monarch asserted to be the direct or indirect cause of all the mischief and bloodshed occurring in the world, should be the means of getting Diez into scrapes and difficulties, the least of which would have been fatal to a less daring and fortunate man. Had he been contented to remain quiet in Ontorio del Pinar, he might have eluded all the researches of his enemies; for he had always timely information through the peasantry of the approach of any party of French troops. It chanced, however, that in the Burgo de Osma there lived a canon who was a native of the same place as the Empecinado, and this canon had a handsome niece with whom Diez had formerly been intimate. As ill luck would have it, one fine afternoon the Empecinado took a fancy to visit this damsel and her uncle. The Burgo de Osma at that time had no regular garrison, but the country was so covered with French troops, that scarcely a day went by without some detachment or piquet passing through the town. Besides this, the Corregidor and other Spanish authorities at the above-named place, who had been appointed by the invaders and were what was called Afrancesados, or favourable to the French, had received repeated orders to be on the look-out for the Empecinado, and to take him dead or alive, should he come within their reach. The risk, therefore, was great; but nevertheless the Empecinado, nothing daunted, almost as soon as the idea entered his head, got upon his horse, and, leaving the five men at Ontorio, set off on this hazardous expedition. It was about an hour after sunset that a horseman, well mounted and armed, but dressed in peasant's clothes, and having much the appearance of a contrabandista, entered the ancient town of the Burgo de Osma. As he passed under a heavy old-fashioned archway which formed the entrance to one of the streets, a dark figure that wall accosted him, asking alms. was crouched down in an angle of the “Una limosna, Senor, por el amor de Dios." The horseman threw some small coins to the beggar, and in so doing turned his face towards him. "Santa Virgen! El Empecinado!" exclaimed the mendicant, rising from his half recumbent posture and stepping up to the guerilla, who at once recognised a deformed object that for many years had haunted the church door of Castrillo, where he went by the name of Nicolas el Coco, or the lame Nicolas. Having become suspected of some petty thefts, he left Castrillo, and had since wandered over the country, living as best he might at the expense of the charitably disposed. Not over pleased at this meeting, but at the same time unsuspicious of betrayal, the Empecinado placed a piece of gold in the hand of the beggarman. "Not a word of my being here, Nicolas," said he, "and when alms are scanty or hunger pinches, you shall not lack a bite and a sup at the bivouac fire of the Empecinado." The mendicant gazed after Diez as he rode away. "The same as ever," *muttered he to himself. "An open hand and a kind word Martin Diez always had for the poor man, and many's the realito he has given me when he was only known as the best vinedresser and keenest woodsman in the province of Valladolid. Times have changed with him now, and gold seems as plenty in his pouch as quartos were formerly. And well may it be so after all he has taken from the French. Carts full of treasure, they say, rich clothes, and fine horses, and well-tempered arms. Ay de mi! Nicolas, 'twill be long ere thy crippled carcass may share in the capture of such princely plunder. A few rags, a dry crust, and a well. scraped bone, are thy portion of this world's goods. And yet there is a way," continued he, in an altered tone and as though a sudden thought had flashed across him. "But 'twere foul treason, with his gold yet warm in my hand. Yet the sum " And muttering broken sentences to himself, he hobbled slowly down the street. Various persons, who had occasion in the course of that evening to visit the corregidor of the Burgo de Osma, observed what at first appeared to be a misshapen mass of rags propped up against the wall near the magistrate's door. On looking closer they recognized Nicolas el Coco, and more than one threw him alms, and advised him to seek some better place to pass the night. But the advice was unheeded, and the money left upon the pavement. At length, and as the town clocks were striking eleven, the beggarman started up, crawled as fast as his distorted limbs would allow him to the corregidor's door, and knocked hastily and loudly. The whole movement was that of a man who had worked himself up to the commission of an act of which he felt ashamed, and was fearful of leaving undone if it were delayed a moment longer. The servant, who, through a small grated wicket in the centre of the door, reconnoitred the applicant for admittance at that late hour, started back on finding his face within an inch or two of the hideous countenance and small red eyes of the deformed wretch. Recovering from his alarm, however, a few words were exchanged between him and Nicolas, which ended in the admission of the latter. Meanwhile the Empecinado had been joyfully welcomed by the worthy canon and his fair niece, although they did not fail to reproach him with foolhardiness in having thus placed his head in the lion's jaws. Diez made light of their apprehensions, and having by his gayety and confidence at last succeeded in dissipating them, declared his intention of passing the next day in their society, and leaving the town as he had entered it, in the dusk of the evening. Owing perhaps to the unwonted softness of the bed which the hospitable canon had prepared for his guest, and which was somewhat different from the rough and hard couches he had of late been accustomed to, the Empecinado's sleep was that night deeper and sounder than usual. Thus it was that he who at the bivouac, or stretched on a paillasse in a peasant's cottage, was used to start from his slumbers at the jingle of a spur or click of a musket-lock, heard not the blows that, an hour after midnight, were struck on the door of the canon's house. The canon himself, more vigilant than his guest, looked out of an upper window, and seeing a group of persons assembled in front of his dwelling, although, from the darkness of the night, he could not distinguish who they were, suspected some danger to the Empecinado, and hastily slipping on part of his dress, hurried to arouse him. Unluckily, however, a servant, who had not yet retired to rest, had also heard the knocking, and going to the door, inquired who was there. "Gente de paz," was the answer, and the man recognizing the voice of the corregidor of the town immediately withdrew bars and bolts, and gave entrance to that functionary, followed by two other magistrates of inferior grade, and a score of well-armed alguazils. Leaving sentries at the door, the party mounted the stairs; and as the master of the house, whose alertness a life of ease and sloth had somewhat impaired, was entering a gallery leading to the Empecinado's apartment, he found himself face to face with the corregidor. "You are doubtless proceeding to the same quarters as ourselves, Senor Canonigo, although on a different errand probably," said the magistrate with a sarcastic smile, running his eye over the unfortunate churchman's perplexed countenance and scanty attire. This is a serious matter, senor," added he, resuming his gravity. "You are said to be sheltering a notorious robber and traitor, on whose head a price has been set. Be good enough to accompany me in the search I am about to institute for the outlaw Juan Martin Diez." And pushing the unlucky canon before them, the party proceeded along the gallery, and stopped at the door of the Empecinado's room. Making asign to his followers to move silently, the corregidor entered a large apartment, at the further end of which was an alcove where Diez lay sleeping with his pistols and sabre on a chair beside his bed. These were removed by an alguazil; but even then, so great was the terror inspired by the well known strength and desperate courage of the partizan, that, backed as he was by twenty armed men, the corregidor's hand trembled as he laid it on the shoulder of the sleeper. A touch was sufficient to arouse the guerilla; he sprang into a sitting posture and confronted the magistrate. "In the King's name, Martin Diez, you are my prisoner," said the latter. "In the name of what King?" asked the Empecinado, who saw at once that resistance was useless, and that a day of triumph for his enemies had arrived; "I know of none in Spain at present." "In the name of King Ferdinand the Seventh," replied the corregidor. "Vil Afrancesado!" exclaimed Diez, his eyes flashing, and his features assuming so terrible an expression that his captor stepped a pace backward, and looked to his armed retinue as though for protection. "Add not hypocrisy to your treason, but say at once it is by order of the French you commit this base act, unworthy of a true Spaniard." While this was passing above stairs, and notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, a number of persons had assembled at the door of the Canon's house, attracted by a report which had spread that an important arrest was taking place. The assemblage consisted chiefly of artizans and labourers, a class that almost, without exception, entertained a violent hatred for the French, differing in that respect from some of the higher ranks, of which many individuals had deemed it necessary to their security, or advantageous to their interests, to side with the invaders. Nicolas el Coco was also there. Scarcely had he given information to the corregidor of the Empecinado's arrival in the town, when he began to be agitated by violent fears lest the large reward that had been his stimulus to the treachery should yet escape him, and be grasped by some more powerful hand than his own. Nor were his apprehensions unreasonable, considering the then confused and disorganized state of things in Spain, and the corruption of the new authorities appointed by the French. The corregidor asked him where Diez had alighted, but to this he was unable to reply. The magistrate's suspicions, however, were immediately directed to the canon, whom he knew to be a townsman and friend of the Empecinado, and to his house he forthwith proceeded, as has already been seen. The beggarman, trembling for the price of his villany, stuck close to his skirts, but on arriving at the canon's door, even his avarice was not sufficiently strong to induce him to confront the man whom he had betrayed, and he waited in the street. while the capture was effected. "What's to do neighbours?" said a burly, beetled-browed man, in the garb |