the
carts were driven up the beach and across the Royal road, and into a
track which led back to the hills."

Jose Medina suddenly laughed. He could hear the groaning and creaking of
those thin-wheeled springless carts which had carried all his fortunes
on that night thirteen years ago, the noise of them vibrating for miles
in the air of that still spring night! What terror they had caused him!
How his heart had leaped when--and lo! Hillyard was carrying on the
tale.

"Two of the Guardia Civil stepped from behind a tree, arrested your
carts, and told the drivers to turn back to the main road and the
village."

"Yes."

"You ran in front of the leading cart, and stood there blocking the way.
The Guardia told you to move or he would fire. You stood your ground."

"Yes."

"Why the Guardia did not fire," continued Hillyard, "who shall say? But
he did not."

"No, he did not," Jose Medina repeated with a smile. "Why? It was
Fate--Fortune--what you will."

"You sent every one aside, and remained alone with the guards--for a
long time. Oh, for a long time! Then you called out, and your men came
back, and found you alone with your horses and your carts. How you had
persuaded the guards to leave you alone----"

"Quien sabe?" said Medina, with a smile.

"But you had persuaded them, even on that first venture. So," and now
Hillyard smiled. "So we took your carts up in to the mountains."

"We?" exclaimed Jose. He took a step forward, and gazed keenly into
Martin Hillyard's face. Hillyard nodded.

"I was one of your companions on that first night venture of yours
thirteen years ago."

"_Claro!_ You were certainly there," returned Jose Medina, and he was no
longer speaking either with doubt or with the exaggerated politeness of
a Spaniard towards a stranger. He was not even speaking as _caballero_
to _caballero_ the relationship to which, in the beginning, Hillyard had
most wisely invited him. He was speaking as associate to associate, as
friendly man to friendly man. "On that night you were certainly with me!
No, let me think! There were five men, yes, five and a boy from
Valencia--Martin."

He pronounced the word in the Spanish way as Marteen.

"Who led the horse in the first cart," said Hillyard, and he pointed to
his visiting card which Jose Medina still held in his hand. Jose Medina
read it again.

"Marteen Hillyard." He came close to Hillyard, and looked in his eyes,
and at the shape of his features, and a