nt, Uraga's triumphant. But the expression of
triumph on the part of the latter appears held in check, as if to wait
some development that may either heighten or curb its display.

Uraga breaks silence--the first speech vouchsafed to his former
commanding officer since making him a prisoner.

"Senor Miranda," he says, "you will no doubt be wondering why I have
ordered your fellow-captive to be taken apart from you. It will be
explained by my saying that I have words for you I don't wish overheard
by anyone--not even by your dear friend, Don Prospero."

"What words, Gil Uraga?"

"A proposal I have to make."

Miranda remains silent, awaiting it.

"Let me first make known," continues the ruffian, "though doubtless you
know it already, that your life is in my power. If I put a pistol to
your head and blow out your brains there will be no calling me to
account. If there was any danger of that, I could avoid it by giving
you the benefit of a court-martial. Your life is forfeit to the state;
and our military laws, as you are aware, can be stretched just now
sufficiently to meet your case."

"I am aware of it," rejoins Miranda, his patriotic spirit roused by the
reflection; "I know the despotism that now rules my unfortunate country.
It can do anything, without respect for either laws or constitution."

"Just so," assents Uraga; "and for this reason I approach you with my
proposal."

"Speak it, then. Proceed, sir, and don't multiply words. You need not
fear of their effect. I am your prisoner, and powerless."

"Since you command me to avoid circumlocution, I shall obey you to the
letter. My proposal is that, in exchange for your life--which I have
the power to take, as also to save--you will give me your sister."

Miranda writhes till the cords fastening his wrists almost cut through
the skin. Withal, he is silent; his passion too intense to permit of
speech.

"Don't mistake me, Don Valerian Miranda," pursues his tormentor, in a
tone intended to be soothing. "When I ask you to give me your sister I
mean it in an honourable sense. I wish her for my wife; and to save
your life she will consent to become so, if you only use your influence
to that end. She will not be a faithful sister if she do not. I need
not tell you that I love her; you know that already. Accept the
conditions I offer, and all will be well. I can even promise you the
clemency of the State; for my influence in high places is somewha