The lad in goatskin breeches looking, Byrne says, like a faun or a young satyr leaping ahead, stopped to wait for him, and then went off at a bound.

Both disappeared.
Byrne turned back.

The hamlet was hidden in a fold of the ground, and the spot seemed the most lonely corner of the earth and as if accursed in its uninhabited desolate barrenness.

Before he had walked many yards, there appeared very suddenly from behind a bush the muffled up diminutive Spaniard.

Naturally Byrne stopped short.
The other made a mysterious gesture with a tiny hand peeping from under his cloak.