ANDALUSIAN SKETCHES. 503 



heard of my threats, and fled ; but I felt assured that the day of re- 

 tribution would arrive. About a year afterwards I was on my way 

 home from Puente-Mayorga, crossing the path which leads over 

 Carteia, when I met, in its narrowest pass, Juan Ramirez, seated on 

 a borico (an ass) slowly jogging along. He knew me as quickly as 

 I recognized him, and that his doom was certain. I saw in his sink- 

 ing eye and pallid brow that he was aware his fate had overtaken 

 him. Why did the wretch return to this part of the country, and 

 thus place himself in the way of my just revenge ? ' Base avarici- 

 cious dishonourable villain,' said I ; ' get down from the borico, 

 and avail yourself of the few minutes you have to live, to ask pardon 

 of heaven for your sins. Five minutes I give you by this watch/ 

 which I produced to mark the time. He did pray, loudly and ear- 

 nestly ; but, I must admit to you, that his supplications were ad- 

 dressed to me to spare his life. They did not avail him the minutes 

 passed quickly ; I levelled and pulled the trigger. The fates seemed 

 to favour the traitor ! My gun, for the only time in my remembrance, 

 missed fire. The unhappy man, having then hope of escape, attempt- 

 ed to run away. But it was to be. Fresh priming was soon shaken, 

 and f Murio la muerte (he died the death) ! That gun, without 

 which I never leave this roof, sent the unerring bullet through his 

 head. The matter made some noise. It was well known that I had 

 threatened revenge. I had been observed in the direction of the old 

 Roman town (Carteia) on the day Juan's body was found dead in 

 the path, the ass quietly gazing by its side. A company of soldiers 

 (the mere civil-power would not venture to pay me a hostile visit in 

 this forest) apprehended me, and I suffered four months' imprison- 

 ment in Cadiz gaol ere my trial took place. It cost me money, and 

 I was acquitted in default of evidence. Now was I so much to blame 

 in this affair ?" 



I was unwilling to commit myself by any reply to this query, and 

 pretended to be fully occupied in lighting a new cigar. The miller 

 did not repeat his question, but continued his recital. 



" As for another transaction/' said he, in a confident tone, " and 

 which was also much talked of, I think you will excuse me altogether. 

 It occurred a few years since, during the time of 'the Constitution/ that 

 period of terror when Spain was misgoverned by three hundred 

 tyrants called the Cortes, who bellowed the word ' liberty/ but put 

 to death, banished, or imprisoned every one who did not echo their 

 insane cry, and submit to be plundered of half his substance to 

 pay large salaries to these mock patriots. ' Viva d Hey absolute!' 

 say I. Let Spain be governed by one just man instead of a band of 

 needy adventurers. Let us retain her old laws and customs, under 

 which she will be more happy and contented than with your new- 

 fashioned French notions and charters. It was, I say, during the 

 second year of this f sovereignty of the people/ as it was called, that 

 a detachment of those fellows, the nacionales (national troops) was on 

 its march from the San Roque to the town of Alcala-de-los-Gazules, 

 and passed through this wood. Near my mill not half a mile dis- 

 tant is an humble hut inhabited by an industrious old man, a gar- 

 dener, who, with his wife and pretty daughter Francesca, support 



