re of the Spaniard. But amid phrases interrupted by sighs and mingled
with tears, Don Vegal perceived the intense attachment of this simple
heart for him whom she called her deliverer. He induced Sarah to take
some repose, and watched over her with the solicitude of a father.

Martin Paz comprehended the duties that honor required of him, and, in
spite of perils and dangers, would not pass the night beneath the roof
of Don Vegal.

He therefore went out; his head was burning, his blood was boiling with
fever in his veins.

He had not gone a hundred paces in the street, when five or six men
threw themselves upon him, and, notwithstanding his obstinate defense,
succeeded in binding him. Martin Paz uttered a cry of despair, which was
lost in the night. He believed himself in the power of his enemies, and
gave a last thought to the young girl.

A short time afterward the Indian was deposited in a room. The bandage
which had covered his eyes was taken off. He looked around him, and saw
himself in the lower hall of that tavern where his brethren had
organized their approaching revolt.

The Sambo, Manangani, and others, surrounded him. A gleam of indignation
flashed from his eyes, which was reciprocated by his captors.

"My son had then no pity on my tears," said the Sambo, "since he
suffered me for so long a time to believe in his death?"

"Is it on the eve before a revolt that Martin Paz, our chief, should be
found in the camp of our enemies?"

Martin Paz replied neither to his father, nor to Manangani.

"So our most important interests have been sacrificed to a woman!"

As he spoke thus, Manangani had approached Martin Paz; a poignard was
gleaming in his hand. Martin Paz did not even look at him.

"Let us first speak," said the Sambo; "we will act afterward. If my son
fails to conduct his brethren to the combat, I shall know now on whom to
avenge his treason. Let him take care! the daughter of the Jew Samuel is
not so well concealed that she can escape our hatred. My son will
reflect. Struck with a mortal condemnation, proscribed, wandering among
our masters, he will not have a stone on which to rest his sorrows. If,
on the contrary, we resume our ancient country and our ancient power,
Martin Paz, the chief of numerous tribes, may bestow upon his betrothed
both happiness and glory."

Martin Paz remained silent; but a terrific conflict was going on within
him. The Sambo had roused the most sensitive chords of his