Jack eagerly accepted the hidalgo’s offer. Don Pedro opened a heavily-chased escritoire, selected a sheet of paper, then cut a new quill, and proceeded with as much formal deliberation as though he were penning a document of state. The letter finished, he carefully sprinkled it with sand from a silver pounce-box, delicately shook the paper clean when the ink was dry, and after folding it, impressed upon it a seal some two inches in diameter. The whole operation had occupied nearly half an hour, which Jack had utilized in thinking out his plans. "I much regret to hear, Señor," said the hidalgo, as he handed him the note, "that my dear friend General Castaños has suffered a check, and that this may cause some change in General Sir Moore’s plans. But I hope your excellent countrymen will not be discouraged by this temporary mischance. ’Tis but the fortune of war, or perhaps a warning, a summons to us to cast off our lethargy; and Spain will hear, and when she awakes, let her foes beware." Jack took his leave, thanking the hidalgo in flowing Castilian, and requesting him to send the promised costume to his quarters. Half an hour afterwards the clothes arrived. Meanwhile Jack had procured a little saffron, by whose aid he had given his complexion a sallow tinge, and this, with the large-brimmed pointed hat, the cloak, and other details of the costume, effected a complete transformation in his appearance. Armed with the note to Don Pedro’s old servant, he walked boldly out by the front door into the street. As luck would have it, the first person he met was Captain O’Hare himself. "Vaya usted con Dios!" said Jack, with a slight bow, giving the usual Spanish salutation. "Buenos dias, Señor!" returned the captain, with so vile a pronunciation that Jack could scarcely repress a smile. He passed on unrecognized, and chuckled at having so completely deceived the worthy captain. Rather more than half an hour later he came to a spot on the road to Medina del Campo where Giles was patiently waiting with the mule. The big private was sitting on a heap of stones, holding the reins with one hand while with the other he flung pebbles across the road in idle preoccupation. Jack went up to him. "You Inglese soldier?" he said, in a foreign accent. "Yes, mister." "Inglaterra a fine region," said Jack. "You go a viaje?" "See then, what’s a viaje?" "A voyage, a march, on the mule back." "No, I’m not goin’ a march on the mule back." "The mule is to you?" "The mule bean’t nowt to me." "Where you go then?" "What’s that to you, mister?" "What for you—?" "Now look here, mister, doan’t ye be too inquisitive. Axing me forty questions indeed. See then, I’ll punch your head, iss a wull, if ye—" Jack burst out laughing. "Well, Giles," he said, "that’s a compliment to my disguise at any rate. Have you got the packet for me?" "Yes, sir," said Ogbourne, springing to his feet with a sheepish grin. "Beg pardon, sir, but I took you for a Don."