Now, senor, follow me," he said, and turned to go in the other
direction.

"You had best call me Juan, and begin at once," Terence said. "If
by accident you were to say senor, in the hearing of anyone, there
would be trouble at once."

"I shall be careful, never fear," the man said. "However, there
would only be harm done if there happened to be a Frenchman--or one
of their Spaniards, who are worse--present. As to my own comrades,
it would not matter at all. We muleteers are all heart and soul
against the French, and will do anything to injure them. We are all
obliged to work for them; for all trade is at an end, and we must
live. Many have joined the partisans, but those who have good mules
cannot go away and give up their only means of earning a living;
for although the French pay for carriage by mules or carts, if they
come upon animals that are not being used, they take them without a
single scruple.

"Besides, there are not many partisans in this part of Spain. The
French have been too long in the valley here, and are too strong in
the Castiles for their operations. It is different in Navarre,
Aragon, and Catalonia; and in Valencia and Mercia. There the French
have never had a firm footing, and most of the strong places are
still in Spanish hands. In all the mountainous parts, in fact,
there are guerillas; but here it is too dangerous. There are bands
all over the country, but these are really but robbers, and no
honest man would join them.

"This is the house."

He turned in at a small doorway and unlocked the door, closing it
after them.

"Put your hand on my shoulder, Juan," he said. "I have a light
upstairs."

He led the way in darkness up a stone staircase, then unlocked
another door and entered a small room, where a candle was burning.

"This is my home, when I am here," he said. "Most of us sleep at
the stables where our mules are put up; but I like having a place
to myself, and my mate looks after the mules."

Nothing could have been simpler than the furniture of the room. It
consisted of a low pallet, a small table, and a single chair. In a
corner were a pair of saddlebags and two or three coloured
blankets. A thick coat, lined with sheepskin, hung against the
wall. In a corner was a brightly-coloured picture of a saint, with
two sconces for candles by the side of it. The muleteer had crossed
himself and bowed to it as he came in, and Terence doubted not that
it was the picture of a saint who