ouse of Carmona and the leader of the seven famous brigands?
Who would believe him? Who would not think it a silly and spiteful attempt
on the part of an embittered man to injure a grandee of Spain?

Carmona would not have taken the whole Seven into his confidence, that was
certain. He would have appealed to the leader alone. That leader had
escaped; and even if he were captured he would not betray the Duke. Why
should he, since it would not help himself; whereas, if he were loyal,
Carmona would secretly use influence to lighten his lot?

Dick and I discussed these matters in English, under the nose of the civil
guard, as I drove on to Jerez; and shrewd Yankee as he was, for once he
accepted the Spanish point of view. If we were to "get even with Carmona
and pay him out for this," it must be in some less clumsy way, Dick
agreed.

XXXIV

THE RACE

It was lucky for us that the guard had met an automobile between the
brigands' barricade and Jerez, otherwise we should have been at sea. The
road-mender near Utrera had seen but one car, and that might have been the
King's; but now we had something to hope for still; and Dick and I
resolved to get out of Jerez as soon as possible, provided we could learn
that the car we followed had gone on. If we lingered, the civil guard
might, after all, think it his duty to have us detained, and we did not
wish to give him time to change his mind.

"It's a pity, though," said Dick, with a thirsty sigh. "I've always had a
sneaking fancy that if I ever came to Spain I'd stop at Jerez--'the place
where the sherry comes from'--and potter about in huge, cool bodegas,
sampling golden wine from giant casks with queer names on them. Only think
what it would feel like to-day to have a stream of mellow 'Methusalem'
trickling over our dusty lips and down our dry throats? Great Scott! I
daren't dwell on it, since it can't be. But it's a grand chance missed."

Almost as he spoke we flashed into a neat white town, with green glimpses
of _patios_; and groaning, Dick shut his eyes upon a great bodega where
the famous names of Gonzalez and Byass loomed black on white.

We dumped our civil guard at the entrance to a side street which was, we
hinted, rather narrow for automobiles, and, not waiting for his grateful
adieux, we darted on, asking a bootblack the way to the best hotel. At the
"Sign of the Swan" we paused just long enough to give the Gloria wate