"Ha!" exclaimed Montoro, a look of intelligence now taking the place of bewilderment. Then he stooped and kissed the child's forehead, as he said in low tones, "Blessings on thee for thy true heart, my little lad, and my thanks. May the Lord have thee in His keeping, and guard thy hands from sin." And so they parted, each, as poor little Bautista fondly thought, to go widely different ways, but in reality to take two routes leading to the same goal. For the first two days' journey inland the party to which Montoro joined himself was a particularly strong one, too strong for the three gamblers to care to meddle with; accordingly they withdrew themselves from notice, until the travelling company was reduced to Montoro himself, Master Sancho and his thick-headed attendant, and a couple of poor-spirited merchants, who would have rather hidden themselves in their bales at the appearance of danger, than tried to defend them. But then--there was Don. The third day was drawing to a close, when Diego and his companions reached a wretched little inn, the worst on their route, and with considerable grumbling on the part of comfort-loving Master Sancho, they put up there for the night. To make matters worse, the amount of available accommodation was even less than usual, for another party of travellers had arrived before them, and taken the chief and largest room. However, there was no help for it. Master Sancho had to make the best of a bad bargain, and as nothing would induce him to share a room with Don, and nothing would induce Montoro to dispense with Don's company as a guardian under present circumstances, he and the dog had one room, and the worthy burgess of El Cuevo and the two merchants from Saragossa had to crowd into the other. "One night," explained Master Sancho to his companions, "that young rascal I've taken a fancy to, persuaded me to share a sleeping apartment with him and that great brute, and in the night I snored,--I'm given to snore,--and the creature didn't approve, and woke me up with a sounding thump of its great paw. And there, behold! it stood reared up over me, with glaring eyes and a growling mouth. I warrant you, I prayed in one minute to more saints in the calendar than I've prayed to in many a long year before." "Doubtless," assented one of the merchants with paling cheeks. "I have ever thought it a fearful great beast, and unsafe. But hearken! Methinks it is now quarrelling even with its own master. Ah!" with startled breathlessness--"it is shot." Then there was a sudden rushing all over the inn. Screams, shrieks, shouts, slamming of doors, and above all, the continuous roar of Don's deep growling bark.