into a deep hole
in the morass, and, striking his head against a log, was drowned there.

"Is it finished?" said Leonard to the dwarf.

Otter nodded. "Some are dead and some are fled," he answered; "but from
these last we have little to fear, for they believe that an army has
come against them. Still that is not all the tale, Baas. We have taken
one of them alive. Come and look at him, Baas."

Leonard clambered up the steps of the embankment, followed by the
others. On its further side stood the group of Settlement men who had
returned from scouring the camp, thin and haggard fellows, scarred by
the slave-irons, but very fierce-looking. In their midst a white man
crouched upon the ground, moaning with terror and misery. Just then he
lifted his face--it was that of the Yellow Devil himself. There lay that
aged Iniquity, that hoary Shame caught at last in his own snares.

"Where did you find him, Otter?" asked Leonard as they crossed the
drawbridge.

"In the magazine, Baas, and your gold with him, also many rifles and
much powder. He had locked himself up there, but he had not the heart to
fire the powder and make an end."

Pereira did not see them as yet, but raising his head he begged for
water.

"Give him blood," said one of the men sullenly. "He has drunk it all his
days, let it be his last drink."

Leonard motioned to Francisco the priest to bring water, then Pereira
saw them and began to pray for mercy.

"Antonio Pereira," Leonard answered sternly, "last night I and two
companions, a woman and a black dwarf, set ourselves a task--to take
this armed place of yours and rescue a white girl whom you had condemned
to slavery. It did not seem possible that we should do it, but between
sunset and sunrise we have done it. Who helped us then?--that we should
have carried out this thing which was impossible. I will tell you; God
helped us as He helped this lady when she called on Him. Cry to God,
then, to do that which is still more impossible--to help you. From me
you will have justice and no more."

For a moment Pereira ceased whining, and a flash of the old ferocity
came into his eyes.

"Ah! my friend," he muttered, "if I had but known!" Then turning to
Juanna he said: "My dove, have I not treated you kindly? Will you say no
word for me, now that my enemies prevail against me?"

By way of answer Juanna looked first at the human reptile before her,
and next at the bosom of her torn dress, now roughly pinned