you won't dare to say the law doesn't do its work properly in Spain."

"I assure you," said I, "I'd far rather lose my watch than have to
give evidence in court to hang a poor unlucky devil, and especially
because--because----"

"Oh, you needn't be alarmed! He's thoroughly done for; they might hang
him twice over. But when I say hang, I say wrong. Your thief is an
_Hidalgo_. So he's to be garrotted the day after to-morrow, without
fail.* So you see one theft more or less won't affect his position.
Would to God he had done nothing but steal! But he has committed several
murders, one more hideous than the other."

* In 1830, the noble class still enjoyed this privilege.
Nowadays, under the constitutional _regime_, commoners have
attained the same dignity.

"What's his name?"

"In this country he is only known as Jose Navarro, but he has another
Basque name, which neither your nor I will ever be able to pronounce.
By the way, the man is worth seeing, and you, who like to study the
peculiar features of each country, shouldn't lose this chance of noting
how a rascal bids farewell to this world in Spain. He is in jail, and
Father Martinez will take you to him."

So bent was my Dominican friend on my seeing the preparations for this
"neat little hanging job" that I was fain to agree. I went to see the
prisoner, having provided myself with a bundle of cigars, which I hoped
might induce him to forgive my intrusion.