ncha--oh yes, little Concha Cabezos from Andalucia, certainly they
knew her. All the village knew her.

"A pretty girl and dances remarkably well," said Esteban Perico
complacently, "but holds her head too high for one in her position."

"I do not call that a fault," said Etienne, moving along the wooden
settle in front of the venta door to make room for the huge Gallegan,
who at that moment strolled up. He did this quite naturally, for in
Spain no distinctions of master or servant hold either upon church
pavements or on venta benches.

"No, it is certainly no fault of Concha's that she keeps herself aloof,"
said a young fellow in a rustic galliard's dress--light stockings, knee
breeches of black cloth, a short shell jacket, and a broad sash of red
about his waist. He twirled his moustachios with the air of one who
could tell sad tales of little Concha if only he had the mind.

"And why, sir?" cried Etienne, bristling in a moment like a turkeycock;
"pray, has the young lady vouchsafed you any token of her regard?"

"Nay, not to me," said the local Don Juan, cautiously; "but if you are
anxious upon the question, I advise you to apply to Don Rafael de
Flores, our alcalde's son."

"What," cried the Frenchman, "is he her lover?"

"Her lover of many months," answered Don Juan, "truly you say right. And
the strange thing is that he got himself stabbed for it too, by that
great oaf Ramon Garcia, whom they now call 'El Sarria.' Ha! ha! and he
was as innocent as yourself all the time."

"I will presently interview the Don Rafael de Flores," muttered Etienne.
"This is some slander. 'Tis not possible Concha has been deceiving
me--and she so young, so innocent. Oh, it would be bitter indeed if it
were so!"

He meditated a moment, flicking his polished boot with a riding-whip.

"And all the more bitter, that up to this moment I thought it was I who
was deceiving her."

But the young Don Juan of the Sarrian _cafe_ liked to hold the floor,
and with three distinguished cavaliers for listeners, it was something
to find a subject of common interest. Besides, who knew whether he might
not hear a tale or two to the disadvantage of little Concha Cabezos, who
had flouted him so sadly at last carnival and made a score of girls
laugh at him upon the open Rambla.

"It happened thus," he said, "you have heard of El Sarria the outlaw, on
whose head both parties have set a price?"

"He was of our village," cried half a dozen at once