"Ohé, Don Long-chops," said the commissary, "you thought to escape me, did you? Now you and I will have a reckoning." As the alcalde was brought round the table until he faced the commissary, Jack rose. "I will bid you good-day, monsieur," he said politely. "I have a long way to go, and be sure that in whatever village I pass through I shall warn them that so capable an officer is not to be trifled with." "That is sound sense, pardi," said the commissary. "You will do well to prepare them for my coming, and, look you, if we meet again, you and I will drink as much Valdepenas as our skins will hold—provided my duty is done. Au revoir!" Jack bowed and took his leave. The information he had obtained from the self-sufficient commissary was clearly of the highest importance. There were twenty thousand men in Valladolid: they were about to march for Segovia; and the emperor himself was coming southward at the head of an army. It was evident that the French were as yet in ignorance of the proximity of Moore’s army. They were probably intending a blow at Madrid; and Jack saw in a flash that this might have a direct bearing on the movements contemplated by Sir John. "Why shouldn’t we march eastward and cut their communications?" he thought. The question was, how was this information to be conveyed to head-quarters? At the earliest Juan could not be back before dark, even if he met his brother the instant he arrived at Carpio. "There’s nothing for it but to go myself," said Jack to himself, "and that’s a pity. I should have liked to get a little more out of my budding marquis when he is in one of his expansive moods. Well, I’ve a cold ride before me." *CHAPTER VII* *Pepito intervenes* Precautions—Gone to Earth—Foundered—In the Nick of Time—The Allied Army—At the Marchesa’s Palace—Social Salamanca—Light Refreshments—Messengers—A Recognition The stable-yard lay to the rear of the inn. Snow had been falling lightly during Jack’s conversation with the commissary, and one of the servants was busily sweeping the slush into a corner. The stable doors were open, and several lads and men were attending to the horses of the commissary’s escort, the universal hiss of men employed in that occupation being mingled with curses which it was lucky the Frenchmen could not hear or understand. Jack went up to one of the men and asked him to bring out his mule. The ostler turned from the horse he was grooming and looked at Jack with an air of incivility, if not downright insolence. He made no movement to carry out the order, and, glancing round, Jack became aware that all the other stable-helps had left their work and were gazing at him with the same distrustful, lowering scowl. "What’s the matter?" he thought.