Pepito stood in the centre of the group of officers, while the four stablemen hung on the outskirts, Giles keeping a watchful eye on them. The boy, speaking in rapid Spanish, with an occasional Romany word when he found his emotions too much for him, told how, after being provided with clothes by Giles Ogbourne, he had started to track the Señor, in spite of orders to the contrary. Being hungry, and having no money, he had, on arriving at the farmhouse where Jack had met him, offered to clip the farmer’s mules, such clipping being the traditional occupation of the gipsies in Spain. There he had seen Jack’s plight, caught sight of the pursuers, and instantly determined the course of action he adopted. When overtaken by the panting stablemen, he had sent them off on the wrong track; but they carried him along with them and threatened him with a lingering death if he proved to have played them false. He was cudgelling his wits for a plan of escape when, as luck would have it, they fell suddenly in with a troop of French chasseurs, who captured the whole party, chose to assume that they were spies, and bundled them into the watch-house at Rueda to await punishment. "Ay, ay, that cell!" said Pepito. "It was dark and damp and foul, and Señor knows how the Romany love the fresh air and the open sky. But still, there were the Busne, the four noble Busne, Señor, and when I felt sad I would laugh at them, and tell them what fools they were, who the Señor really was, and how it was all their own fault if they were shot. Oh, it was good, Señor!" The gipsy’s black eyes twinkled at the recollection. "I’m afraid you’re a mischievous young scamp," said Jack. "You’d better come along with me—that is, if you’ll behave yourself." "Ta ra, ta ra! Viva!" cried Pepito, flinging his knife in the air and catching it as it fell. "’The Romany chal to his horse did cry’"—and singing his merry song he skipped up to Giles, and dug the stolid Devonian in the ribs. Meanwhile, Jack beckoned to the Spaniards, and they slouched towards him with shamefaced sullenness. Addressing the biggest of them, he said with a smile: "Well, hombre, you will be wiser next time. It might have been awkward for you. You’d better go home by way of Salamanca, or you might happen to meet some more Frenchmen. Here, you may find this useful." He gave the man a few pesetas, and the four dejected fellows, muttering their thanks, shambled away.