Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 367, May 1846

In the sweltering July evening after Don Baltasar’s daring escape, Pamplona’s principal coffee‑house erupts with clamor. Officers of Córdoba’s victorious army mingle with gamblers hunched over tables piled high with coin, while a brass serenade drifts through smoke‑filled rooms. The air hums with laughter, clinking glasses, and the steady mutter of bankers, all oblivious to the uneasy calm that may shatter with the next sunrise.

Amid the revelry sit two strikingly different figures. The first, a wiry twenty‑six‑year‑old Navarrese in a loose jacket and bright‑buttoned cavalry gear, is the notorious El Mochuelo—once a Carlist, now a rebel leader whose nocturnal raids have earned him a fearsome reputation. Opposite him looms a broader, scarred veteran, his purple cheek wound a testament to countless battles, exuding the weathered confidence of a soldier who has seen both war and peace. Their quiet confrontation hints at a rivalry that could reshape the conflict, drawing listeners into a world of restless ambition and looming danger.