ase pen and paper, in order that he might write to Madrid; but
this favour was peremptorily refused him, and all the inhabitants of the
village were forbidden under terrible penalties to afford him the means
of writing, or to convey any message from him beyond the precincts of the
place, and two boys were stationed before the window of his cell for the
purpose of watching everything which might be conveyed to him. It
happened one day that Vitoriano, being in need of a pillow for his head,
sent word to the people of the _posada_ to send him his _alforjas_ or
saddle-bags, which they did. In these bags there chanced to be a kind of
rope or, as it is called in Spanish, _soga_, with which he was in the
habit of fastening his satchel to the pony's back. The urchins seeing an
end of this rope hanging from the _alforjas_ instantly ran to the
_Alcalde_ to give him information. Late at evening the _Alcalde_ again
visited the prisoner, at the head of his twelve men as usual. '_Buenas
noches_,' said the _Alcalde_. '_Buenas noches tenga usted_,' replied
Vitoriano. 'For what purpose did you send for the _soga_ this
afternoon?' demanded the functionary. 'I sent for no _soga_,' said the
prisoner, 'I sent for my _alforjas_ to serve as a pillow, and it was sent
in them by chance.' 'Thou art a false malicious knave,' retorted the
_Alcalde_, 'you intend to hang yourself, and by so doing ruin us all, as
your death would be laid to our door. Give me the _soga_.' No greater
insult can be offered to a Spaniard, than to tax him with an intention of
committing suicide. Poor Vitoriano flew into a violent rage, and after
calling the _Alcalde_ several uncivil names, he pulled the _soga_ from
his bags, and flinging it at his head, told him to take it home and use
it for his own neck.

At length the people of the _posada_ took pity on the prisoner,
perceiving that he was very harshly treated for no crime at all. They
therefore determined to afford him an opportunity of informing his
friends of his situation, and accordingly sent him a pen and inkhorn,
concealed in a loaf of bread, and a piece of writing-paper, pretending
that the latter was intended for cigars. So Vitoriano wrote the letter;
but now ensued the difficulty of sending it to its destination, as no
person in the village dare have carried it for any reward. The good
people, however, persuaded a disbanded soldier from another village, who
chanced to be at Fuente La Higuera in