with a smile.

"I have always been an honest man," affirmed Zapote, with a demure look.
"Virtue has been my motto through life; and I assure your honour, that
I was forced to consort with these brigands very much against my will.
I was only too glad, when, to save my old compadre here, I found an
opportunity of making some amends for the wicked life I have been
obliged to lead in their company."

"Hum!" said the Lieutenant, with a dubious shrug of the shoulders, "I
suppose you expect your virtue to be well rewarded. But how did you
ascertain that the man you encountered so unexpectedly was the Colonel?"

Zapote now recounted their subsequent interview with the brigands; and
how he had learnt from them the object of their pursuit--as well as the
adroit ruse he had practised to secure the escape of himself and his
"compadre."

"It's all true as gospel!" affirmed Gaspar, when his companion had
finished the relation.

Zapote also made known the advice he had given to Don Rafael: to conceal
himself among the bamboos.

"At what place?" demanded the Lieutenant.

"Just below the ford," answered the deserter.

"But, Senor Lieutenant," added he, "I shall be most happy to conduct you
to the spot myself."

"You shall do no such thing, my brave fellow. You and your worthy
_compadre_, as you call him, shall remain here as hostages, till Don
Rafael is found. I have no confidence in lambs that have been so long
in the company of wolves. If the Colonel be living, so may you; but if
I find it otherwise, then your prospects--Ho, there!" cried the
Lieutenant, without finishing the threat, "take these two men to the
guard-house, and keep them there, till I order them to be set free."

So saying, the Catalan poured out a glass of his favourite liquor, and
commenced drinking it.

"What, and me, too?" inquired Gaspar, in a tone not very complimentary
to his companion in misfortune.

"A fig for you! my worthy fellow!" rejoined the Lieutenant. "You should
have remembered the proverb, _mas vale viajar in solo que mal
acompanado_." (Better travel alone than in bad company.)

"By the cross of Christ!" continued he, after quaffing off his glass, "I
shall make short work of it with this bandit, Arroyo. To-night I shall
finish with him and his band; and if I don't give the jackals and
vultures a meal that will last them for a twelvemonth, my name's not
Veraegui!"

At an order from his superior, the _alferez_ flung down the ca