Sierras of Burgos, the guerillas were compelled to cross the Duero at the ford of the Puente Caido, or Fallen Bridge, which is within sight of Aranda. The garrison of that town having caught a view of the Empecinado and his band, a regiment of dragoons were sent out, which chased them as far as the town of Coruna del Conde, (') but there dropped the pursuit, while the Spaniards took refuge in the Sierra of Arlanza, and fixed their headquarters at a Benedictine monastery, situated in the very wildest and most savage part of - those mountains. Hence emissaries were dispatched in every direction, who soon returned with news that the French were determined to surround the Sierra on all sides, and not to raise the blockade till the Empecinado had fallen into their hands. Upon receiving this intelligence, and after some consultation between the Empecinado and Fuentes, the partida was divided into four detachments of twenty-five men each. The same night, Fuentes, at the head of one of these parties, left the mountain, and, passing through the French lines made a forced march in a southerly direction, following the course of the Duero: Sardina and El Manco, subordinate officers of the Empecinado, with other two detachments, took the direction of Arragon, but by different roads; while Diez himself remained in the Sierra with the last twenty-five men.

A week passed away, during which time the French, having posted troops round the mountain in which they conceived the guerillas to be lurking, waited patiently till hunger or an attempt to break through the lines should place their troublesome enemy in their power. On the seventh day, however, news came to the general commanding, that on the road to Arragon a party of troops escorting a quantity of clothing, and some sick and wounded, had been attacked by the band of the Empecinado. A few hours later, and while the French were yet chafing with fury at the escape of the Guerilla whom they had made so sure of capturing, another messenger arrived, and reported that a courier had been surprised and taken, and his escort of twenty dragoons cut to pieces, at the

'(') The Clunia of the ancient Romans, and birthplace of the Emperor Galba.

village of Magaz, on the Valladolid road, also by the Empecinado. Heartily cursing their ubiquitous enemy, the French commanders marched with all their forces to the provinces of Valladolid and Siguenza, leaving forty troopers with the depot at the headquarters in the town of Covarrubias, which is situated at the foot of the Sierra of Arlanza, and little more than half a league from the Benedictine monastery where the Empecinado had all the while remained.

It was on the second morning after the French troops had marched from Covarrubias, that eight or ten of the dragoons remaining there in garrison, were lounging about in front of the large stable where they were quartered, grumbling at the routine of duty that had consigned them to the dulness of the depot, while their comrades were riding over the country, and perhaps engaged with the enemy. After having sufficiently lamented their hard fate in being left to ennuyer themselves in an insignificant Castilian town, and after having discussed, without coming to any satisfactory conclusion, the means by which the Empecinado had slipped through their fingers, some of the idlers were making a move in the direction of a neighbouring tavern, and others, stretching themselves on the straw inside the open door of the stable, seemed disposed to indulge in a forenoon nap, when a shrill voice from the further end of the street called the attention of both the sleepy and the thirsty.

Barquillos! Barquillos! Quien quiere barquillos ! »

The person who uttered this cry, common enough in the Spanish towns, was a woman who carried, suspended from her arm by a broad leathern strap, a tin-box nearly three feet in height, serving as a receptacle for a quantity of the thin wafer-like cakes called barquillos, and having a sort of dial-plate painted on its circular top.

Vamos, senores; a provar la suerte. Try your luck, sirs, said the wandering cake-merchant, setting down her moveable warehouse, and giving a vigorous spin to the brass needle poised in the centre of the dial.

The Barquillera was a strapping wench of some five-andtwenty years of age apparently, whose lower person acquired

additional amplitude from a multiplicity of coloured woollen petticoats, while a tight boddice of coarse black stuff encased her broad shoulders and well-defined bust. Her hair, instead of hanging in a plait down the back, was tucked up, probably to protect it from the dust of the roads, under a straw hat, whose wide leaf had, however, been insufficient to keep the sun from her face, which was tanned almost a mahogany colour. Her features were regular, although somewhat large and coarse, and when she pushed her sombrero a little back upon her head, and cast her great black eyes around with an assured and smiling glance, she exhibited quite sufficient charms to secure the attention and admiration of the soldiers. Taking up her station at the stable-door, she repeated her cry of Barquillos, and the light-hearted Frenchmen, crowding around in high glee at having found the means of killing a few minutes, began twirling the needle, at a rate that bid fair to empty the tin box and fill the barquillera's pocket with copper coins.

"Mille sabres! quelle gaillarde! exclaimed an old dragoon, bestowing an admiring glance on the wide shoulders and well set-up figure of the barquillera, «hang me, if I don't think an army of such stout-built lasses would have a better chance of successfully opposing our troops, than any Spanish division I ever yet set eyes on. »

"They would have as good a one at any rate,» said another soldier sneeringly. I see no reason that a hard-fisted peasant girl should not pull a trigger from behind a tree, or a bank, as well as any he-guerilla that ever carried a rifle. »

Every one has his own way of fighting,» replied the first speaker, and I am not sure that the Spanish way is the worst. They know they cannot stand against us in a fair charge on the plain, and so they take to bush-fighting. But they are not altogether to be despised, when a fellow like this Empecinado manages to keep a whole division running after him for weeks and months, without being able to catch a sight of his horse's tail. I trust they soon will, though, and have a pull at it too. At any rate, we have got him out of these mountains, which is one point gained. "

The cakes having all disappeared, some wine was sent for, of which the barquillera partook, joining in the conversation of the soldiers, and replying with much readiness, and in a mixture of Spanish and bad French to their rude jokes and witticisms. After half an hour spent in this way, she took up her box and prepared to depart.

"

Adios, senores, y muchas gracias," said she, turning round when a few paces from the dragoons, and laughing so as to display a row of brilliant white teeth.

The soldiers were already moving off in various directions, some to their quarters and others to the wine-shop; but one of them, either inclined for a stroll, or seduced by the good looks of the barquillera, lounged down the street in her company. They soon reached the extremity of the town on the side looking towards the mountains; but the dragoon, amused by the lively chatter of his companion, paid little attention to the direction she was taking, and was nearly half a-mile from the last houses, when he remembered that it might be unsafe to proceed much further, at a time and in a country where the ploughman and vine-dresser pursued their labours with a gun lying in the furrow beside them, ready for a shot at any straggling Frenchman. Before turning back, however, he threw an arm round the barquillera's waist, and made an attempt to kiss her. She held him off for an instaut, and looked behind her as though to see if any one were following them along the road. Not a creature was in sight, and she no longer opposed the young Frenchman's embrace. But as his lips touched her cheek, a piercing cry burst from them, and the dragoon fell backwards, a dead man. The barquillera remained standing in the middle of the path, curiously inspecting a long glittering knife she held in her hand. There was a small stain of blood within an inch of the haft, which she carefully wiped off, and then buckling the sabre of the dead soldier round her own waist, she plunged into a thicket that bordered the road.

On the same morning on which this incident occurred, the Empecinado was walking up and down in front of the Benedictine monastery,, in company with one of the monks. His

charger and those of his troop were there, saddled and bridled in readiness for a march, and the guerillas stood about in groups, fully equipped, and apparently only waiting the order to mount and away. Presently a horse was pushed full speed up the steep, rocky path leading to the monastery, and a lad of eighteen in his shirt sleeves, and with a woman's straw hat upon his head, but armed with a sabre, flung himself off.

"Have you been into

« What news, Pedrillo?» asked Diez. the town? » "I have so, Senor replied the youth, and might have stopped there all day, before those muddle-headed gavachos would have found out my disguise. Besides, they believe you to be far enough off-in Arragon at the nearest. I have spoken with several of them, and they are entirely off their guard. One fellow, indeed, was kind enough to accompany me out of the town, but I doubt if he will find his way into it again..

"And why not?» enquired Diez.

The peasant made no reply by words, but slightly touched the haft of a knife sticking in his girdle.

« Mount!» shouted the Empecinado, and his men sprang into their saddles.

The unsuspicious Frenchmen were dispersed about the streets, and had left only half a dozen men on guard in their stable, when the Empecinado, and his band charged at headlong speed into Covarubbias. Proceeding straight to the barracks, the guard was overpowered and disarmed without a shot being fired, and the guerillas began hunting down the remaining dragoons, who fled in every direction, some secreting themselves in the houses, and others even leaving the town and seeking concealment in the vineyards. But none of them escaped, for many of the town's people and peasants joined in the chase, and showed themselves even more merciless than the guerillas, knowing, that if they left one man alive to relate the share they had taken in the affair, their necks would not be worth an hour's purchase on the return of the French division. About fifty horses, and a large number of mules