The bandit once escaped what appeared to be certain capture by remarkable coolness and presence of mind. While he was seated with some friends in a house in Setenil, playing the national card game, "tute," one of his numerous protégés ran into the room with the alarming news that the Civil Guard were approaching the house bent upon his capture. His companions offered all kinds of advice--he must hide under a pile of sheep-skins lying in the corner, he must drop out of a rear window, he must climb out upon the roof and lie quietly hidden there, and so on. El Vivillo, however, begged them to be quite at ease and continue their interrupted game as if nothing were about to happen. Descending the staircase he opened the front door and came face to face with a patrol of the Civil Guard. They inquired whether he had seen El Vivillo. In a firm voice he replied that he had--that he had even been playing cards with him, but that, half an hour before, the bandit had ridden off to a neighbouring village. The officers dashed off in hot haste in the direction indicated, but, needless to say, did not succeed in capturing El Vivillo on that occasion. [Illustration: A DETACHMENT OF THE CIVIL GUARD WHICH WAS STATIONED AT SETENIL, AND WAS SEVERAL TIMES ENGAGED WITH EL VIVILLO AND HIS BAND. _From a Photograph._] The brigand's family is composed of five children--two sons and three daughters. One of the former is married, and resides in Estepa. The three girls--Dolores, Carmen, and Consuelo--are noted beauties, with the voluptuous figure, dark hair, eyes, and complexion that have made Andalusian women famous. They all speak French correctly--an unusual accomplishment in the children of a Spanish brigand; and in their small but comfortably furnished house in Estepa there is a piano, a luxury for Spain, which the second daughter plays with exceptional ability. Expelled by the police to Gibraltar last November, the children took steamer to Buenos Ayres, and so unwittingly caused the Spanish authorities to suspect that El Vivillo, who was badly wanted, was in hiding there. Information was sent to the Spanish Legation in the Argentine capital, and a few days after the arrival of his family El Vivillo was prosaically arrested at a ranch tenanted by him at the village of Ensenada, near La Plata. That misplaced admiration of, and sympathy for, those accused of crime is not confined to the fair sex of any one country is proved by the treatment El Vivillo has received since his arrest. While he was in jail at Buenos Ayres he received hundreds of letters of commiseration from women, many containing offers of assistance and money. It is said that he amassed a tidy sum by charging five dollars apiece for his autographs, which were in great demand among the Spanish señoritas of the South American city. [Illustration: A WALRUS-HUNT IN THE ARCTIC.] +By David Gove.+