"_Satanas_ seize us if we bury a hair of their heads!" exclaimed the guerilla vehemently. "Pho! Senor Cavalier, you forget yourself. They are only Frenchmen; and what say the priests every day,—’Love all mankind _but_ Frenchmen, who are the spawn of hell!’ They lie under the ban of his holiness the Pope, and with this excuse three hundred unfrocked friars serve in my band,—and brave fellows they are as ever grasped hilt! But as for the soldiers of the Corsican tyrant, they may feast the wolves of the mountains or the birds of the air, for aught that Mina cares about the matter." He now unslung a huge leathern flask of _aguardiente_ from his sash, and after giving Stuart and his subs each a draught, he handed the rest to Sergeant Macrone, to distribute among the light company. Macrone gave his best bow and carried off the flask, with many a wish that "Got might pless her honour’s ainsel, and gie her lots o’ ta sneeshin and ta gude Ferintosh!" To the good wishes of Macrone, Mina replied only by a stare, without comprehending a syllable. He next gave some cigars to each of the officers, saying, at the same time, it was no compliment to present them with what cost him nothing, one of his guerillas having found them in a Frenchman’s havresack. "But they are prime cigars, senores, and from the manufactory at Guadalaxara, in Mexico," said he, lighting one adroitly by means of flashing powder in the pan of one of his pistols. "Excellent!" continued he, puffing away with an air of satisfaction, which would have driven the royal author of the ’Counter-blaste’ to his wit’s-end. "Excellent indeed, _par Diez_! And I ought to be a judge, senores, having smoked some hundred thousands in my time, and though but a poor peasant who dug the earth and planted cabbages at Pampeluna, I am descended in a direct line from the noble cavalier Don Hernandez de Toledo, who in 1559 introduced the famous leaf into Europe, from the province of Tabaca in San Domingo." "Truly, Senor Espoz y Mina, your worthy ancestor deserves the gratitude of his countrymen," said Chisholm, in a tone of raillery. "He contrived a very agreeable amusement for them. From day-dawn till sunset they do little else than draw smoke into their mouths, and watch it curling out again." Mina fixed his keen dark eye with a glance of displeasure upon Chisholm’s good-natured countenance, but made no reply to him. "Juan de la Roca!" cried he, in a voice like thunder, while he struck his foot impatiently on the frozen snow. "Senor?" answered a childish voice; and a tall Spanish boy about sixteen years of age stood before him. This mere child fought in the band of Mina. He was esteemed the bravest among them and always led their advanced guard, and his name had been blazoned forth in all the _Gacetas_ of the country. "Bring the spy before us."