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THE PLOT THICKENS APACE.
257

"And what became of the horsemen?"

"I have no doubt that, under cover of the darkness, they mingled with the escort. It is easy to guess why; and, probably, they are not alone, for these ravines could conceal an entire cuadrilla (band). If your lordship will be guided by me, we shall let the convoy go on without us."

"Not at all," I answered; "I must go and tell the captain."

"And who told you, Señor, that the captain is not also an accomplice?"

I made no answer. It was not the time for discussion, but for acting. Without considering whether Cecilio's suspicions of Don Blas were well or ill founded, I spurred my horse to warn at least the chief arriero. With some trouble I made up to the rear guard, passed it and some of the mules, the others still forming a long line in front. In the midst of the fog I was guided by the clank of their hoofs on the rocky ground. At last I distinguished the tinkling of the leading mule a few hundred yards in advance. At the same moment I fancied I recognized in the cavalier by my side the sinister countenance of Victoriano's substitute. Some seconds after, the voice of a muleteer rose in the darkness.

"What's the meaning of this?" cried he. "Halloo! Victoriano, is that you? It is, by heavens! and by what chance?"

There was no reply, and the question was not repeated. I shuddered. I thought I heard a stifled cry, followed by a heavy fall. I listened again attentively, but the only sounds were the whistling of the wind, and the echo of the mules' feet upon the stony road. A few seconds after my horse shied vio-