is. He has no hope to
get possession of her by fair means; foul are alone in his thoughts.

After delivering his half-frenzied apostrophe to the painted image, he
returns to the table, beside which Roblez has already taken a seat.

They re-fill their glasses, and drink the toasts specified, with a
ceremony in strange contrast to the hellish glee sparkling in the eyes
of the Lancer-Colonel. His countenance beams with triumph, such as
might be shown by Satan over the ruin of innocence. For he now feels
sure of his victims--alike that of his love as well as those of his
revenge.

Not long does he remain over his cups in the company of his subordinate.
He has an important matter upon his mind which calls for reflection--in
silence and by himself.

Though often admitting his adjutant to a share in his criminal schemes,
the participation is only in their profits and the act of execution.
Despotic even in his villainies, he keeps the planning to himself, for
he has secrets even Roblez must not know. And now an idea has dawned
upon his mind, a purpose he does not care to communicate to the
subaltern till such time as may be necessary or seem fit to him. Not
that he dreads treachery on the part of his fellow freebooter. They are
mutually compromised, and long have been; too much to tell tales about
one another. Besides, Roblez, though a man of undoubted courage, of the
coarse, animal kind, has, neverthless, a certain moral dread of his
commanding officer, and fears to offend him. He knows Gil Uraga to be
one whose hostility, once provoked, will stop short at nothing, leave no
means untried to take retribution--this of a terrible kind. Hence a
control which the colonel holds over him beyond that drawn from his
superior military rank. Hence, also, his receiving but a small share in
the proceeds of their various robberies, and his being satisfied with
this, or, at all events, seeming so.

On his side, Uraga has several motives for not letting his subordinate
into the knowledge of all his complicated schemes; among them one
springing from a moral peculiarity. He is of a strangely-constituted
nature, secretive to the last degree--a quality or habit in which he
prides himself. It is his delight to practice it whenever the
opportunity offers; just as the thief and detective officer take
pleasure in their respective callings beyond the mere prize to be
derived from their exercise.

The intelligence just received from