man on horseback, muffled in a cloak, was waiting. It was Colonel
Villabuena.

"All is well," said the gipsy; "and you have only to ride forward and
prepare for our reception."

"Who is with you?" said Don Baltasar, in a dissatisfied tone.

"The lady and her doncella, and Paco, her father's orderly."

"Fool!" cried Baltasar; "why did you let him come? His presence may ruin
my plan."

"How could I help it?" retorted Jaime. "If I had objected he would have
suspected me. He's as cunning as a fox, and did not swallow the story
half as well as his mistress. But her impatience decided it. Nothing
would serve her but setting out immediately."

"He must be disposed of," said Baltasar. "There's many a mountain
precipice between this and our destination," he added meaningly.

Jaime shook his head.

"I might do it," said he; "but if I failed, and he is a wary and active
fellow, the chances are that he would do the same kind office for me,
and return with the lady."

"Humph!" said Baltasar. "Well, he shall be cared for. And now ride on. I
shall be at the convent an hour before you. Remember to take the longest
road."

The gipsy nodded, returned to his horse, and, springing lightly into the
saddle, galloped after his companions. Don Baltasar remained a short
time longer in the thicket, and then emerging upon the road, followed
Rita and her party at a deliberate pace. From time to time he stopped,
and listened for the sound of their horses' footsteps. If he could hear
it, he halted till it became inaudible, and then again moved on. His
object evidently was to keep as near to the travellers as he could
without allowing his proximity to be suspected.

It was nearly midnight, and Rita and her companions had been for some
time amongst the mountains, when they reached a place where the road, or
rather track, they followed, split and branched off in two different
directions. Jaime, who, since they had entered the sierra, had abridged
the distance between himself and his companions, and now rode just in
front of Rita's mule, was taking the right hand path, when Paco called
out to him that the left was the shortest and best.

"You are mistaken," said Jaime abruptly, continuing in the direction he
had first taken.

But Paco would not be put off in so unceremonious a manner, and he rode
up to the gipsy. "I tell you," said he, "that I know this country well,
and the left hand road is the one to take."

"How long is it since y