e way was
tiresome. The horses plodded on till they were abreast of the house,
when there was a whistle; the crack of light widened, suddenly there
was a rush of feet, a torch was brandished, and brown hands fell upon
the bridles.

One of the riders cried out, flung up his arms, and begged for
mercy. They might take his master's money, if they would, but for
the sake of St. Isaac, St. Matthew, and St. John, let them spare
his life. The other horseman, tall, spare, wrapped in a cloak,
swung down from his saddle in a business-like way, addressed a
remark in a low tone to the brigands, took the lantern from the
neck of his neighbor's nag,--it was a fine, mettled black he rode
himself,--turned up the flap of his hat a little, only a little,
not enough to reveal his face, and proceeded to rifle the pockets
and saddle-bags of his amazed companion. The lantern and the torch
shone on six or eight as hang-dog faces as would be met in a day's
journey, and among them was one closely resembling the prisoner who
had been discharged on a trial two or three weeks before for lack of
evidence. The victim of this robbery having given up all he seemed
to possess was told to ride straight into town without word or halt,
else he would be shot, and a fierce stroke being given with the whip,
his horse was off at such a gallop that he had much ado to keep his
seat. The thieves heaped the saddle-bags and parcels into the middle
of the road and bent near, while the man in the cloak opened them and
examined their contents in the flickering light. A gust of wind made
the torch flare and put the lantern out. The cloaked man muttered an
oath, and had partly risen to his feet, when there came a sound that
caused him to stagger and hold his hands to his head as if in mortal
terror. It was a wailing voice, and it pleaded, "For the sake of the
Virgin, of Her Blessed Son, of the Holy Saint Peter, of the Good God,
pray for me. Pray for a sinner. Beg the good fathers at Nuevitas to
say a mass for the soul of Enrique Carillo."

The cloaked man groaned. The others crouched, shuddering, and their
eyes in the red torch-flame were the eyes of goblins. In another
moment a shock ran through the group, for another voice, clear and
stern, commanded, "As you value your lives, don't stir. Men, do not
fire unless I tell you."

A light flashed up, then another, and the bandits discovered themselves
in the centre of a ring formed by twenty men, with the young captai