within speaking distance; and then I had to wait, because a voice clamouring through a loophole with joy and astonishment would not allow me to place a word. It was the voice of Major Pajol, an old friend. He, like my other comrades, had thought me killed a long time ago.
"'Put spurs to your horse, man!' he yelled, in the greatest excitement; 'we will swing the gate open for you.'
"I let the reins fall out of my hand and shook my head. 'I am on my honour,' I cried.
"'To him!' he shouted, with infinite disgust.
"'He promises you your life.'
"'Our life is our own. And do you, Santierra, advise us to surrender to that rastrero? '
"'No!' I shouted. 'But he wants his wife and child, and he can cut you off from water.'
"'Then she would be the first to suffer. You may tell him that. Look here—this is all nonsense: we shall dash out and capture you.'
"'You shall not catch me alive,' I said, firmly.
"'Imbecile!'
"'For God's sake,' I continued, hastily, 'do not open the gate.' And I pointed at the multitude of Peneleo's Indians who covered the shores of the lake.
"I had never seen so many of these savages together. Their lances seemed as numerous as stalks of grass. Their hoarse voices made a vast, inarticulate sound like the murmur of the sea.
"My friend Pajol was swearing to himself. 'Well, then—go to the devil!' he shouted, exasperated. But as I swung round he repented, for I heard him say hurriedly, 'Shoot the fool's horse before he gets away.'
"He had good marksmen. Two shots rang out, and in the very act of turning my horse staggered, fell
