h to save
your life."

"I warmly thank you for what you say, Don Eduardo," I exclaimed; "but I
cannot do what is proposed. If I am not guilty it will be more easy to
die; but I trust that, as an Englishman, the government will not venture
to put me to death unless my guilt is clearly proved."

"In these times no respect is paid to persons," he said. "You must not
trust to such a hope; yet I would take a more satisfactory answer back
to my colonel."

"I can send no other answer than what I have given," I replied; "you
would from your heart despise me if I did."

At this he looked very melancholy. "Well, I fear it must be so, yet I
will do all I can for you," he said, as again pressing my hand in token
of his good-will, he rose to leave me.

Having ordered the sentries to return to their posts, he went to where
my companion in misfortune was sitting. He conversed with him for some
time; and though I had great confidence in Pedro, I was afraid that he
might ultimately be tempted or threatened into compliance with the
colonel's demands. I wronged him; for I afterwards learned that he
remained firm to his honour. The night passed away without any
adventure; and wearied out by bodily fatigue and mental anxiety, though
the hard ground was my couch, I slept till daylight. My conscience was,
at all events, clear of wrong, and I never recollect to have slept so
soundly. I awoke more refreshed than I had been for some time, and with
a lighter heart in my bosom. Even hope revived, though I had little
enough to ground it on. The air was pure and bracing, my nerves felt
well strung, and the face of nature itself wore to my eyes a more
cheerful aspect than it had done for many days. The troops advanced
more rapidly than they had before done, and towards evening the spires
of several churches rising from the plain, the rays of the sun lighting
them brilliantly up, came in sight. They were in the town of San Pablo,
the houses in which soon after appeared. As we approached, a number of
the Spanish inhabitants came out to hear the news, and seemed highly
gratified at the result of the expedition. The unfortunate Indians who
were brought in as prisoners, chiefly attracted their attention; and I
was shocked to hear the abuse they heaped on them. The miserable beings
walked on with sullen and downcast looks, without deigning to reply.
They had no hope--they had lost the day, and they knew the fate which
awaited them.