It was true that robberies were
committed by men who regularly wore black masks, but it was never one
and the same man who was guilty of these misdeeds. Nevertheless the name
had won a sort of nimbus of notoriety among the common people, many had
made use of it as well as of the mask attaching to it, and though it was
an undeniable fact that Fatia Negra had been caught and hanged more than
once, yet he still continued to live and go about. The popular mythology
had immortalized him.
The parson, however, had quite a different opinion of the matter; he
seemed to be more particularly informed. Although he opined Fatia Negra
wandered through every corner of the kingdom, his abiding nest was in
this district; he had a sweetheart here to whom he appeared
periodically.
"Why don't they seize him then?" asked Henrietta.
"Because a part of the common folks holds with him, and the other part
thinks he is in league with the devil."
"I would set a high price on his head and give it to whomsoever caught
him."
"Oh, my lady, the various counties have done that scores of times, and
now and then a young fellow braver than the rest has tried to catch him;
but they have all of them ended by losing their own heads instead of
getting his."
"Never mind, I will not be satisfied till that man is in my power. Ah,
the robber-chieftain little imagines what an enemy he has raised up
against him in me, when he put this terrible riddle into my heart.
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