"A quartillo of wine will be no bad preparation for the journey," said the muleteer; "and I will readily bestow one in memory of the spavined mule which you tried to palm upon me, but could not, now some three years past." The gipsy gave another of his furtive and peculiar glances, accompanied by a slight grin. "Thanks for your offer," said he, "but I tell you again I have no time either to drink or shear. I must be gone before those mad fellows return, and detain me by some new prank." The noisy chatter and laughter of the soldiers was heard as he spoke. The dog had got clear off, and they were returning to the kettle to devour what was left there. The gipsy turned to go, when Paco put his hand into his pocket, and on again drawing it forth, a comely golden ounce, with the coarse features of Ferdinand VII. stamped in strong relief on its bright yellow surface, lay upon the palm. The eyes of the esquilador sparkled at the sight, and he extended his hand as if to clutch the coin. Paco closed his fingers. "Gently, friend Jaime," said he; "nothing for nothing is a good motto to grow rich upon. This shining _onca_, and more of the same sort, may be yours when you have done service for them." "And what do you require of me?" said the gipsy, with a quick eagerness that contrasted strongly with his previous apathetic indifference. "I will tell you," said Paco, "but in some more private place than this." "Let us be gone," said the gipsy. And as the first of the soldiers re-entered the field, the two men passed through a gap in the hedge that bounded it, and were lost to view in the adjacent thicket.