econcile him
to the risk."

But was Barrios really available? Perhaps. But he was inaccessible.
To send off a boat to Cayta was no longer possible, since Sotillo was
master of the harbour, and had a steamer at his disposal. And now, with
all the democrats in the province up, and every Campo township in a
state of disturbance, where could he find a man who would make his
way successfully overland to Cayta with a message, a ten days' ride
at least; a man of courage and resolution, who would avoid arrest or
murder, and if arrested would faithfully eat the paper? The Capataz
de Cargadores would have been just such a man. But the Capataz of the
Cargadores was no more.

And Charles Gould, withdrawing his eyes from the wall, said gently,
"That Hirsch! What an extraordinary thing! Saved himself by clinging to
the anchor, did he? I had no idea that he was still in Sulaco. I thought
he had gone back overland to Esmeralda more than a week ago. He came
here once to talk to me about his hide business and some other things. I
made it clear to him that nothing could be done."

"He was afraid to start back on account of Hernandez being about,"
remarked the doctor.

"And but for him we might not have known anything of what has happened,"
marvelled Charles Gould.

Mrs. Gould cried out--

"Antonia must not know! She must not be told. Not now."

"Nobody's likely to carry the news," remarked the doctor. "It's no one's
interest. Moreover, the people here are afraid of Hernandez as if he
were the devil." He turned to Charles Gould. "It's even awkward,
because if you wanted to communicate with the refugees you could find no
messenger. When Hernandez was ranging hundreds of miles away from here
the Sulaco populace used to shudder at the tales of him roasting his
prisoners alive."

"Yes," murmured Charles Gould; "Captain Mitchell's Capataz was the
only man in the town who had seen Hernandez eye to eye. Father Corbelan
employed him. He opened the communications first. It is a pity that--"

His voice was covered by the booming of the great bell of the cathedral.
Three single strokes, one after another, burst out explosively, dying
away in deep and mellow vibrations. And then all the bells in the
tower of every church, convent, or chapel in town, even those that had
remained shut up for years, pealed out together with a crash. In this
furious flood of metallic uproar there was a power of suggesting images
of strife and violence which bl