_Antonio de la Trava_.—With much pleasure, _Señor Alcalde_, since you order it. With respect to this fellow, I shall not trouble myself to interfere. He at least is no Englishman. He has more the look of a wizard or _nuveiro_; one of those devils who raise storms and sink launches. Moreover, he says he is from Padron, and those of that place are all thieves and drunkards. They once played me a trick, and I would gladly be at the shooting of the whole _pueblo_. I now interfered, and said that if they shot the guide they must shoot me too; expatiating at the same time on the cruelty and barbarity of taking away the life of a poor unfortunate fellow who, as might be seen at the first glance, was only half-witted; adding, moreover, that if any person was guilty in this case it was myself, as the other could only be considered in the light of a servant acting under my orders. “The safest plan, after all,” said the _alcalde_, “appears to be to send you both prisoners to Corcuvion, where the head _alcalde_ can dispose of you as he thinks proper. You must, however, pay for your escort; for it is not to be supposed that the housekeepers of Finisterre have nothing else to do than to ramble about the country with every chance fellow who finds his way to this town.” “As for that matter,” said Antonio, “I will take charge of them both. I am the _valiente_ of Finisterre, and fear no two men living. Moreover, I am sure that the captain here will make it worth my while, else he is no Englishman. Therefore let us be quick, and set out for Corcuvion at once, as it is getting late. First of all, however, captain, I must search you and your baggage. You have no arms, of course? But it is best to make all sure.” Long ere it was dark I found myself again on the pony, in company with my guide, wending our way along the beach in the direction of Corcuvion. Antonio de la Trava tramped heavily on before, his musket on his shoulder. _Myself_.—Are you not afraid, Antonio, to be thus alone with two prisoners, one of whom is on horseback? If we were to try, I think we could overpower you. _Antonio de la Trava_.—I am the _valiente de Finisterra_, and I fear no odds. _Myself_.—Why do you call yourself the _valiente_ of Finisterre? _Antonio de la Trava_.—The whole district call me so. When the French came to Finisterre and demolished the fort, three perished by my hand. I stood on the mountain, up where I saw you scrambling to-day. I continued firing at the enemy, until three detached themselves in pursuit of me. The fools! two perished amongst the rocks by the fire of this musket, and as for the third, I beat his head to pieces with the stock. It is on that account that they call me the _valiente_ of Finisterre. _Myself_.—How came you to serve with the English fleet? I think I heard you say that you were present when Nelson fell.