he must needs also leave
behind the faithful retainer, from whose lips has just issued a
declaration of readiness to follow him to the death.

He cannot, will not; and if he thinks of flight, it is instinctively,
and but for an instant; the thought abandoned as he turns towards the
mulatto, and gives a glance at the mule. On his horse he could yet ride
away from the robbers, but the slow-footed hybrid bars all hope for
Jupiter. The absconding slave were certain to be caught, now; and slave
or free, the colour of his skin would ensure him cruel treatment from
the lawless crew.

But what better himself taken? How can he protect poor Jupe, his own
freedom--his life--equally imperilled? For he has no doubt but that
Borlasse will remember, and recognise, him. It is barely twelve months
since he stood beside that whipping-post in the town of Nacogdoches, and
saw the ruffian receive chastisement for the stealing of his horse--the
same he is now sitting upon. No fear of the horse-thief having
forgotten that episode of his life.

He can have no doubt but that Borlasse will retaliate; that this will be
his first thought, soon as seeing him. It needs not for the robber
chief to know what has occurred by the big oak; that Bosley is a
prisoner, Quantrell a fugitive, their prisoners released, and on their
way back to the Mission. It is not likely he does know, as yet. But
too likely he will soon learn. For Darke will be turning up ere long,
and everything will be made clear. Then to the old anger of Borlasse
for the affair of the scourging, will be added new rage, while that of
Darke himself will be desperate.

In truth, the prospect is appalling; and Charles Clancy, almost as much
as ever in his life, feels that life in peril.

Could he look into the courtyard of the San Saba Mission, and see what
is there, he might think it even more so. Without that, there is
sufficient to shake his resolution about standing his ground; enough to
make him spur away from the spot, and leave Jupiter to his fate.

"No--never!" he mentally exclaims, closing all reflection. "As a coward
I could not live. If I must die, it shall be bravely. Fear not, Jupe!
We stand or fall together!"

CHAPTER SEVENTY.

SURROUNDED AND DISARMED.

Borlasse, riding at the head of his band, has been the first to arrive
at the upper end of the gorge.

Perceiving some figures upon the plain, he supposes them to be Quantrell
and Bosley with the