lley, which was just beginning to show silvery white under the rays of
a rising moon. Perhaps, like Don Ruperto, he was gazing on some spot, a
house endeared to him as the home of his childhood; but from which, as
the leader of the Free Lances, he had been bereft by the last
confiscation. Possibly he was indulging in the hope of its being soon
restored to him, but least of all dreaming of danger behind.

It was there, notwithstanding--in fiendish shape and close proximity. A
creature squatted like a toad, human withal, saying to himself--

"What wouldn't I give for a knife with a blade six inches long!"

Then, with a sudden change of thought, seeing the chance to do without
the knife, making a dash forward, with the ape-like arms extended, and
pushing the sentinel over!

The cry that came from the latter, on feeling the impulse from behind,
was stifled as he went whirling to the bottom of the cliff.

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

ON DOWN THE MOUNTAIN.

"Dead!" muttered the inhuman wretch, as he stood upon the spot late
occupied by his victim, looking down over the cliff. "Dead he must be;
unless a man can fall two hundred feet and still live; which isn't
likely. That clears the way, I take it; and unless I have the ill luck
to meet some one coming up--a straggler--it'll be all right. As sound
ascends, I ought to hear them before they could _see_ me. I shall keep
my ears open."

Saying which he _commenced_ the descent of the _second_ slope,
proceeding in the same cautious way as before.

The path was but a ledge, which, after running fifty yards in a direct
line, made an abrupt double back in the opposite direction, all the
while obliquing downwards. Another similar zig-zag, with a like length
of declivity traversed, and he found himself at the cliff's base, among
shadowy, thick standing trees. He remembered the place, and that before
reaching it on their way up they had followed the trend of the cliff for
more than a quarter of a mile. So, taking this for his guide, he kept
on along the back track.

Not far, before seeing that which brought him to a stop. If he had
entertained any doubt about the sentinel being dead, it would have been
resolved now. There lay the man's body among the loose rocks, not only
lifeless, but shapeless. A break in the continuity of the timber let
the moonlight through, giving the murderer a full view of him he had
murdered.

The sentinel had fallen upon his back, and lay