engaged to carry it across to the coast; and, as the
cargo was very valuable, we were all of us armed to the teeth, with
orders from the _patrone_ to defend it at all hazards. His men were
just the fellows who would obey that order, coming, as it did, from
Cenobio.

"The Government somehow or other got wind of the affair, and slipped a
strong detachment out of Vera Cruz in time to intercept us. We met them
on the other side of this very hill, where a road strikes off towards
Medellin."

"Well! and what followed?"

"Why, the battle lasted nearly an hour; and, after having lost half a
score of their best men, the valiant lancers rode back to Vera Cruz
quicker than they came out of it."

"And the smugglers?"

"Carried the goods safe on board. Three of them--poor fellows!--are
lying not far off, and I came near sharing their luck. I have a
lance-hole through my thigh, here, that pains me at this very moment."

My ear at this moment caught the sound of dogs barking hoarsely below.
Horses of the cavalcade commenced neighing, answered by others from the
adjacent fields, who recognised their old companions.

"It must be near night," I remarked to Raoul.

"I think, about sunset, Captain," rejoined he. "It _feels_ about that
time."

I could not help smiling. There was something ludicrous in my comrade's
remark about "feeling" the sunset.

The barking of the dogs now ceased, and we could hear voices ahead
welcoming the guerilleros.

The hoofs of our mules struck upon a hard pavement, and the sounds
echoed as if under an arched way.

Our animals were presently halted, and we were unpacked and flung rudely
down upon rough stones, like so many bundles of merchandise.

We lay for some minutes listening to the strange voices around. The
neighing of horses, the barking and growling of dogs, the lowing of
cattle, the shouts of the arrieros unpacking their mules, the clanking
of sabres along the stone pavement, the tinkling of spurs, the laughter
of men, and the voices of women--all were in our ears at once.

Two men approached us, conversing.

"They are of the party that escaped us at La Virgen. Two of them are
officers."

"_Chingaro_! I got this at La Virgen, and a full half-mile off. 'Twas
some black jugglery in their bullets. I hope the _patrone_ will hang
the Yankee savages."

"_Quien sabe_?" (Who knows?) replied the first speaker. "Pinzon has
been taken this morning at Puenta Moreno, with several