approaching.

"_Usted su mismo_," (Yourself), replied Raoul.

"_Que cosa_?" (What is it?)

"This gentleman," said Raoul, still speaking in Spanish, and nodding
towards Chane, "has a pocket full of money."

A hint upon that head was sufficient; and the guerilleros, who,
strangely enough, seemed to have overlooked this part of their duty,
immediately commenced rifling our pockets, ripping them open with their
long knives. They were not a great deal the richer for their pains, our
joint purse yielding about twenty dollars. Upon Chane there was no
money found; and the man whom Raoul had deceived repaid the latter by a
curse and a couple of kicks.

The saint, however, turned up, attached to the Irishman's neck by a
leathern string; and along with him a small crucifix, and a pewter image
of the Virgin Mary.

This appeared to please the guerilleros; and one of them, bending over
the Irishman, slackened his fastenings a little--still, however, leaving
him bound.

"Thank yer honner," said Chane; "that's dacent of ye. That's what
Misther O'Connell wud call _amaylioration_. I'm a hape aysier now."

"_Mucho bueno_," said the man, nodding and laughing.

"Och, be my sowl, yes!--_mucho bueno_. But I'd have no objecshun if yer
honner wud make it _mucho bettero_. Couldn't ye just take a little turn
aff me wrist here?--it cuts like a rayzyer."

I could not restrain myself from laughing, in which Clayley and Raoul
joined me; and we formed a chorus that seemed to astonish our captors.
Lincoln alone preserved his sullenness. He had not spoken a word.

Little Jack had been placed upon the ground near the hunter. He was but
loosely tied, our captors not thinking it worth while to trouble
themselves about so diminutive a subject. I had noticed him wriggling
about, and using all his Indian craft to undo his fastenings; but he
appeared not to have succeeded, as he now lay perfectly still again.

While the guerilleros were occupied with Chane and his saints, I
observed the boy roll himself over and over, until he lay close up
against the hunter. One of the guerilleros, noticing this, picked Jack
up by the waistbelt, and, holding him at arm's length, shouted out:

"_Mira, camarados! qui briboncito_!" (Look, comrades! what a little
rascal!)

Amidst the laughing of the guerilleros, Jack was swung out, and fell in
a bed of shrubs and flowers, where we saw no more of him. As he was
bound, we concluded that he could not h