would obey with
the eagerness of bloodhounds let loose from the leash, rather relishing
it as cruel sport.

For all, he does not desire to entrust them with the secret of his
present scheme.

They must not overhear the conversation which he intends holding with
his captives; and to prevent this a plan easily suggests itself.

"Holla!" he hails a trooper with chevroned sleeves, in authority over
the others. "Step this way, _sergente_."

The sergeant advances, and saluting, awaits further speech from the
colonel.

"Order boots and saddles!" directs the latter.

The order is issued; and the soldiers soon stand by their stirrups ready
to mount, wondering what duty they are so unexpectedly to be sent upon.

"To horse!" commands the Colonel, vicariously through his
non-commissioned officer. "Ride up the creek, and find if there is a
pass leading out above. Take all the men with you; only leave Galvez to
keep guard over the prisoners."

The sergeant, having received these instructions, once more salutes.
Then, returning to the group of lancers, at some distance off, gives the
word "Mount!" The troopers, vaulting into their saddles, ride away from
the ground, Galvez alone staying behind, who, being a "familiar" with
his colonel, and more than once his participator in crimes of deepest
dye, can be trusted to overhear anything.

The movement has not escaped the observation of the two men lying tied
under the tree. They cannot divine its meaning, but neither do they
augur well of it. Still worse, when Uraga, calling to Galvez to come to
him, mutters some words in his ear.

Their apprehensions are increased when the sentry returns to them, and,
unfastening the cord from the doctor's ankles, raises him upon his feet,
as if to remove him from the spot.

On being asked what it is for, Galvez does not condescend to give an
answer, except to say in a gruff voice that he has orders to separate
them.

Taking hold of the doctor's arm, he conducts him to a distance of
several hundred yards, and, once more laying him along the ground,
stands over him as before in the attitude of a sentry. The action is
suspicious, awe-inspiring--not more to Don Prospero than Miranda
himself.

The latter is not left long to meditate upon it. Almost instantly he
sees the place of his friend occupied by his enemy. Gil Uraga stands
beside him.

There is an interval of silence, with only an interchange of glances;
Don Valerian's defia