“Señor, a man becomes a rascal without thinking of it. A pretty girl steals your wits, you fight for her, an accident happens, you have to live in the mountains, and from a smuggler you become a robber before you know it. We considered that it was not healthy for us in the neighbourhood of Gibraltar, after the affair of the noblemen, and we buried ourselves in the Sierra de Ronda. You once mentioned José Maria to me; well, it was there that I made his acquaintance. He took his mistress on his expeditions. She was a pretty girl, clean and modest and well-mannered; never an indecent word, and such devotion. As a reward, he made her very unhappy. He was always running after women, he maltreated her, and sometimes he took it into his head to pretend to be jealous. Once he struck her with a knife. Well, she loved him all the better for it. Women are made like that, especially the Andalusians. She was proud of the scar she had on her arm, and showed it as the most beautiful thing in the world. And then José Maria was the worst kind of a comrade, to boot. In an expedition that we made together, he managed matters so well that he had all the profit, we all the blows and trouble. But I resume my story. We heard nothing at all from Carmen. “‘One of us must go to Gibraltar to find out something about her,’ said Dancaïre; ‘she should have arranged some affair for us. I would go, but I am too well known at Gibraltar.’ “The One-Eyed said: “‘So am I too; everybody knows me there, and I’ve played so many games on the lobsters[35]! and as I have only one eye, I am hard to disguise.’ “‘Shall I go then?’ said I in my turn, overjoyed at the bare thought of seeing Carmen again; ‘tell me, what must I do?’ “The others said to me: “‘Arrange it so as to go by sea or by San Roque, as you choose; and when you get to Gibraltar, ask at the harbour where a chocolate seller called Rollona lives; when you have found her, you can learn from her what’s going on yonder.’