"Comrade," cried Covachuelo to Juancho, "we know the extent of your
ammunition. You have still five bulls to let off; after that you will be
compelled to surrender unconditionally. If you capitulate and come out
at once, I will take you to prison with due regard for your feelings,
without handcuffs, in a coach at your own expense, and will say nothing
in my report of the resistance you have made, which would aggravate your
case."

Juancho, careless about his liberty, ceased his defence, and gave
himself up to Argamasilla and Covachuelo, who took him to prison with
all the honours of war.

The torero's case was a bad one. The public prosecutor represented the
nocturnal combat as an attempted assassination. Fortunately Andres, whom
a good constitution and Militona's unremitting care speedily restored to
health, interceded for him, representing the affair as a duel, fought
with an unusual weapon certainly, but with one which he could accept,
because he was acquainted with its management. The generous young man,
happy in Militona's love, thought poor Juancho had suffered sufficiently
on his account, without being sent to the galleys for a wound now
perfectly healed. Andres held his present happiness cheaply bought at
the price of a stab. And as a murder can hardly be very severely
punished, when the victim is in perfect health and pleads for his
assassin, the result of Salcedo's mediation, and of the interest he
made, was the release of Juancho, who left his prison with the bitter
regret of owing his liberty to the man he most hated upon earth, and
from whom he would sooner have died than receive a favour.

"Unhappy wretch that I am!" he exclaimed, when he once more found
himself unfettered and in sunshine. "Henceforward, I must hold this
man's life sacred, or deserve the epithet of coward and villain. Oh! I
would a thousand times have preferred the galleys! In ten years I should
have returned and could have revenged myself."

From that day Juancho disappeared. It was said that he had been seen
galloping on his famous black horse in the direction of Andalusia. Be
that as it might, he was no more seen in Madrid.

The departure of the bull-fighter was shortly followed by the marriage
of Andres and Militona, Andres having been released from his previous
engagement with Dona Feliciana de los Rios, who had discovered, during
his illness, that she had in fact very little affection for her
betrothed husband, and had encourag