Spain -- History -- Carlist War, 1833-1840 -- Fiction
Upon this the old man sat down beside Sergeant Cardono, or, as his new
friends knew him to be, Jose Maria the brigand. He did not talk about
the intended attack as the Sergeant hoped he would. Being impressed by
the greatness of his guest, he entered into a minute catalogue of the
captures he had made, the men he had slain as recorded on the butt of
his gun or the haft of his knife, and the cargoes he had successfully
"run" across the mountains or beached on the desolate sands of
Catalunia.
"I am no inlander," he said, "I am of the sea-coast of Tarragona. I have
never been south of Tortosa in my life; but there does not live a man
who has conducted more good cigars and brandy to their destination than
old Pepe of the Eleven Wounds!"
The sergeant with grave courtesy reached him a well-rolled cigarette.
"I have heard of your fame, brother," he said; "even at Ronda and on the
Madrid-Seville road your deeds are not unknown. But what of this venture
to-night? Have you enough men, think you, to overpower the town watchmen
and the palace-guards?"
The old gipsy tossed his bony hands into the air with a gesture of
incomparable contempt.
"The palace guards are fled back to Madrid," he cried, "and as to the
town watch they are either drunk or in their dotage!"
Meantime the main body of the gipsies waited patiently in the
background, and every few minutes their numbers were augmented by the
arrival of others over the various passes of the mountains. These took
their places without salutation, like men expected, and fell promptly to
listening to the conversation of the two great men, who sat smoking
their cigarettes each on his own stone in the wide wild corrie among the
rocks of the Guadarrama which had been chosen as an appropriate
rendezvous.
Singularly enough, after the sergeant had shown the scarlet mark of the
strangling ring about his neck, no one of all that company doubted for a
moment that he was indeed the thrice-famous Jose Maria of Ronda. None
asked a question as to his whence or whither. He was Jose Maria, and
therefore entitled not only to be taken at once into the secrets of
Egypt, but also, and it pleased him, to keep his own.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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