Ribeaupierre was now with his friends and comrades, doubtless recounting his adventures and his escape, by the aid of a British soldier. A knowledge of this caused Quentin some anxiety, lest among the listeners, there might be some who had neither the gratitude nor the chivalry of the young chasseur, and who might take means to cut off his return to Portugal, for he was now fully aware of the risk he ran on the Spanish side, and began to see something of the snare into which he had fallen. As the last stroke of the bell died away on the wind, a sense of intense loneliness came over Quentin's heart; the sound seemed to come from a vast distance, and the narrow road he was traversing penetrated into the mountains, which seemed to become darker and steeper on each side of it; but there is something intoxicating in the idea of peril to a gallant soul. It kindles a glorious enthusiasm at times, and thus he marched manfully on till a voice in Spanish, loud, sonorous, and ringing, demanded in a military manner-- "_Quien esta ahi?_" (Who comes there?) "_Gente de paez_," replied Quentin, while the rattle of a musket and the click of the lock as it was cocked came to his ear, and he saw the dark outline of a human figure appear suddenly in the centre of the path. "_Estere ahi_ (Stay there), and say from whence you come," said the challenger again. Quentin naturally paused before replying, as he know not by whom he was confronted, and could only make out a tall figure wearing a slouched sombrero, by the pale light of the stars. "Presto--quick!" continued the stranger, slapping the butt of his musket; "from whence come you?" "The British cantonments," replied Quentin, conceiving the truth to be the wisest answer to a Spaniard. "_Bueno!_ why didn't you say so at once?" exclaimed the other; "but what seek you here?" "I am bearer of a despatch for Don Baltasar dc Saldos. Am I right in supposing you are one of his people?" "Si, senor; this is his head-quarters." By this time Quentin had come close to the questioner, who still kept his bayonet at the charge, and who seemed to be a Spanish peasant, accoutred with crossbelts and cartridge-box. He was posted on the summit of a hastily-constructed earthwork, which was formed across the road in a kind of gorge through which it passed; and there, too, were in position three brass field-pieces, French apparently, loaded no doubt with grape or canister to sweep the steep and narrow approach. Beside them lounged a guard of some forty men or so, muffled in their cloaks, smoking or sleeping, but all of whom sprang to their feet and to their weapons as Quentin approached. He had now taken off his grey coat to display his scarlet uniform, and, when one of the guard held up a lantern to take a survey of him, loud vivas and mutterings of satisfaction and welcome greeted him on all sides. "Senors, where shall I find Don Baltasar?" he inquired.