"When you have delivered the note, you will return to Carpio, and wait there for further orders. Both in going and coming you will take care to attract as little attention as possible, and of course you will not say a word to anyone, not even to your dearest friend, about your business. You understand?" "Yes, Señor. And I have a friend near Carpio, a farmer, who lives about a league out of the town, so that I can stay with him if need be." "Very well. Go and get your mule saddled, and return here for the note." Jack wrote a few lines to Sir John, giving him the news of the passing squadron of French horse he had just learnt from the landlord, and ten minutes later Manuel left the inn with the note and a little money to serve for his immediate needs. "Now, Juan," said Jack, when the elder brother had gone, "go to bed and get what sleep you can till three o’clock. At that hour I shall want you to start with me for Olmedo. I’m pretty tired, so I shall turn in myself, landlord, for a brief rest, and I shall take care that your assistance is brought to the notice of my general and also of your own juntas. Good-night!" At three o’clock, beneath a pale half-moon, Jack stood at the door of the inn, waiting as Juan brought up his mule. He was about to mount, when he was surprised to see Antonio issue from the door and approach him. "I’m a rough common man, Señor," he said; "you’re a caballero. My big tongue will not say what I have in my heart, but I know what I owe you for your kindness to-night. Yes, Señor, it was like a true caballero not to remember what had happened on the road; and I say, Señor, that if ever there comes a chance to do you a good turn, por Dios! Antonio will not forget." "Thanks, Antonio!" replied Jack, holding out his hand. "We’ll cry quits and part friends." "Vaya usted con Dios!" returned the man; and then Jack, followed by Juan, cantered up the quiet street. *CHAPTER VI* *Monsieur Taberne* Westphalian Light Horse—Mine Host—Two Menus—Feeding a Commissary—Practice in French—Another Bottle—A Sum in Arithmetic—Inferences—A Cold Prospect Daylight was just breaking as the riders came to the dreary outskirts of Olmedo, passing by one or two desolate-looking vineyards, untidy brick-fields, gloomy convents, and neglected kitchen-gardens, the walled town itself rising before them on an eminence in the midst of a wide sandy plain.