d to the
west wall of La Guayra, distant a half a mile away. They had all been
under the deep shadow of the thick trees overhanging the way until this
instant, but in the faint light cast by the moon just risen, Alvarado
could see that a great body of people were congregated before him on the
road. Who they were and what they were he could not surmise. He was not
long left in doubt, however, for the same voice whose commanding tones
had caused his life to be spared, now called for lights. The demand was
obeyed with a promptness that bespoke fear indeed, or discipline of the
sternest, and soon the captives found themselves in a circle of lurid
light sent forth by a number of blazing torches.

The illumination revealed to Alvarado as villainous and
terrible-looking a body of men as he had ever seen. The first glance
convinced him that they were not Spanish brigands or robbers. He was too
young to have had dealings with the buccaneers of the past generation,
but he realized that if any such remained on this side of the earth,
they must be like these men who surrounded him. He wasted no time in
surmises, however, for after the first swift comprehensive glance his
eyes sought Mercedes. She sat her horse free and uninjured apparently,
for which he thanked God. She was leaning forward over her saddle and
staring in bewilderment and surprise at the scene and confusion before
her.

"Donna Mercedes," cried Alvarado, turning himself about, in spite of his
bonds and the restraint his immediate captors endeavored to put upon
him, "are you safe--unhurt?"

"Safe," answered the girl, "and thou?"

"Well, but for these bonds."

"God be thanked! Who are these men?"

"I know not, but----"

"Oh, sir," interrupted Senora Agapida, recovering her voice at the sound
of the Spanish tongue, "for Christ's sake, what does this mean? Save
us!"

"Senora," said that same sharp voice, but this time speaking in the
Spanish tongue, as a tall man, hat in hand, urged his horse forward,
"fear nothing, you shall be protected. And you, senorita. Do I not have
the honor of addressing Donna Mercedes de Lara?"

"That is my name," answered the girl, haughtily. "Who are you? Why have
you shot my people and seized me prisoner?"

"For love of you, Mistress Mercedes."

"Just heaven! Who are you, I say!" cried the girl at this startling
answer, turning in surprise and terror to look upon his countenance.

There was something familiar in the man's face