On one point my mind was now more easy. The men meant fairly by
me, and I had no longer to fear, as I had feared, a pistol-shot
in the back at the first convenient ravine. As far as that went,
I might ride in peace. On the other hand, if I let them carry me
across the border my fate was sealed. A man set down without
credentials or guards among the wild desperadoes who swarmed in
war-time in the Asturian passes might consider himself fortunate
if an easy death fell to his lot. In my case I could make a
shrewd guess what would happen. A single nod of meaning, one
muttered word, dropped among the savage men with whom I should be
left, and the diamonds hidden in my boot would go neither to the
Cardinal nor back to Mademoiselle--nor would it matter to me
whither they went.
So while the others talked in their taciturn fashion, or
sometimes grinned at my gloomy face, I looked out over the brown
woods with eyes that saw yet did not see. The red squirrel
swarming up the trunk, the startled pigs that rushed away
grunting from their feast of mast, the solitary rider who met us,
armed to the teeth, and passed northwards after whispering with
the landlord--all these I saw.
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