have it," he said, suddenly turning upon Rollo, "it is our only
chance, a ghastly one it is true, but we are in no case for fine
distinctions. _We will get out the death-cart and gather us an army!_"

Rollo gazed at the monk Teodoro as if he had suddenly lost his wits.

"The death-cart! What is that?" he cried, "and how will that help us to
gather an army?"

The Basque smiled, and Rollo noticed when he did so that his eyebrows
twitched spasmodically. There was a broad scar slashed across one of
them. This man had not been in the army of the _Gran' Lor_ for nothing.
For in addition to the sabre cut, he had great ideas under that
blue-veined, broad, sick man's forehead of his.

"Yes," answered Teodoro, calmly, "our brother, whose duty it was to
collect the bodies of the plague-stricken, died two days ago, and the
oxen have not been in the town since. As for me, I too have been sick--a
mere _calentura_, though for a time the brethren feared that the plague
had laid its hand on me also; and as for those other two, they have
enough to do to keep up their ministrations among the living. To give
the last sacrament to the dying is, after all, more important than to
cover up the dead. At such times one has to remember how that once on a
time the Virgin's Son said, 'Let the dead bury their dead!'"

He was silent a little, as if composing a homily on this text.

"But all things work good to the chosen of God," he said. "To-night we
will make of these very dead an army to defend our little Queen--the
Lord's anointed. For in this matter I do not think as do the most of my
brothers of the Church. I am no Carlist, God be my witness!"

Rollo was still in a maze of wonder and doubt when they arrived at the
little stables attached to the long low building of the Hermitage and
began to harness the oxen to the cart. He prided himself on his
quickness of resource, but this was clean beyond him.

"One of us must abide here," continued the monk. "I am still sick unto
death, so that I greatly fear I can give you no help. Bleeding and this
_calentura_ together have left me without power in my old arms. But lend
me your pistols, of which you will have no need. I am an old soldier of
the wars of the Independence, and have not forgotten mine ancient skill
with the weapons of the flesh. Do not fear for the little Princess. Only
make such speed as you can."

And with the utmost haste the Basque instructed Rollo as to his
behaviour when he