Still--the very first.

He ought to remember that! And as he concentrated his thoughts the veil of the years was rent, and he saw, he saw quite clearly the white moonlit beach, the felucca with its mast bent like a sapling in a high wind, and the great yard of the sail athwart the beam of the boat, the black shadow of it upon the sand, and the carts--yes, the carts! "There were two carts," he agreed, and a change was just faintly audible in his voice--a change for which up till now Hillyard had listened with both his ears in vain.

A ring of cordiality, a suggestion that the barriers of reserve were breaking down.
"Yes, senor, there were two carts." Medina was listening intently now.

Would his visitor go on with the history of that night! And Hillyard did go on.
"The tobacco barrels were packed very quickly into the carts, and the carts were driven up the beach and across the Royal road, and into a track which led back to the hills." Jose Medina suddenly laughed.

He could hear the groaning and creaking of those thin-wheeled springless carts which had carried all his fortunes on that night thirteen years ago, the noise of them vibrating for miles in the air of that still spring night! What terror they had caused him! How his heart had leaped when--and lo! Hillyard was carrying on the tale.
"Two of the Guardia Civil stepped from behind a tree, arrested your carts, and told the drivers to turn back to the main road and the village." "Yes." "You ran in front of the leading cart, and stood there blocking the way.
The Guardia told you to move or he would fire.