‘Ah!’ he said, as he tipped the measure; ‘I can always tell when a woman has been pretty; but with you, señora, no such knowledge is required. You will have your beauty for many years yet.’ Thus Vara and his horse fared ever well upon the road. He lingered at the stable door, knowing perhaps that corn poured into the manger may yet find its way back to the bin, and then turned his steps towards the mountain. The cards were still falling with a whispering sound upon the rock selected as a table, and, with the spirit of a true sportsman, Concepçion waited until the hand was played out before imparting his news. ‘It is well,’ he said at length. ‘A carriage has been ordered from a friend of mine in Toledo to take the road to-night to Talavera—and Talavera is on the way to Lisbon. What did I tell you?’ The two soldiers nodded. One was counting his gains, which amounted to almost threepence. The loser wore a brave air of indifference, as behoved a reckless soldier taking loss or gain in a Spartan spirit. ‘There will be six men,’ continued Concepçion. ‘Two on horseback, two on the box, two inside the carriage with their prisoner—my friend.’ ‘Ah!’ said the younger soldier thoughtfully. Concepçion looked at him. ‘What have you in your mind?’ he asked. ‘I was wondering how three men could best kill six.’ ‘Out of six,’ said the older man, ‘there is always one who runs away. I have found it so in my experience.’ ‘And of five there is always one who cannot use his knife,’ added Concepçion. Still the younger soldier, who had medals all across his chest, shook his head. ‘I am afraid,’ he said. ‘I am always afraid before I fight.’ Concepçion looked at the man whom General Vincente had selected from a brigade of tried soldiers, and gave a little upward jerk of the head. ‘With me,’ he said, ‘it is afterwards—when all is over. Then my hand shakes, and the wet trickles down my face.’ He laughed, and spread out his hands. ‘And yet,’ he said gaily, ‘it is the best game of all—is it not so?’ The troopers shrugged their shoulders. One may have too much of even the best game. ‘The carriage is ordered for eight o’clock,’ continued the practical Concepçion, rolling a cigarette, which he placed behind his ear where a clerk would carry his pen. ‘Those who take the road when the night-birds come abroad have something to hide. We will see what they have in their carriage, eh? The horses are hired for the journey to Galvez, where a relay is doubtless ordered. It will be a fine night for a journey. There is a half moon, which is better than the full for those who use the knife; but the Galvez horses will not be required, I think.’ The younger soldier, upon whose shoulder gleamed the stars of a rapid promotion, looked up to the sky, where a few fleecy clouds were beginning to gather above the setting sun like sheep about a gate. ‘A half moon for the knife and a full moon for firearms,’ he said.