me of your face. I did not think that it could
be you, yet so strong was my fear that I determined to fly to the far
Indies. You met me on the night of my flight when I was bidding farewell
to a lady.'

'One Isabella de Siguenza, cousin. I bade farewell to her afterwards and
delivered her dying words to you. Now she waits to welcome you again,
she and her child.'

He shuddered and went on. 'In the ocean we met again. You rose out of
the sea. I did not dare to kill you at once, I thought that you must die
in the slave-hold and that none could bear witness against me and hold
me guilty of your blood. You did not die, even the sea could not destroy
you. But I thought that you were dead. I came to Anahuac in the train
of Cortes and again we met; that time you nearly killed me. Afterwards
I had my revenge and I tortured you well; I meant to murder you on the
morrow, though first I would torture you, for terror can be very cruel,
but you escaped me. Long years passed, I wandered hither and thither, to
Spain, back to Mexico, and elsewhere, but wherever I went my fear,
the ghosts of the dead, and my dreams went with me, and I was never
fortunate. Only the other day I joined the company of Diaz as an
adventurer. Not till we reached the City of Pines did I learn that you
were the captain of the Otomie; it was said that you were long dead. You
know the rest.'

'Why did you murder my son, cousin?'

'Was he not of your mother's blood, of the blood that should bring my
doom upon me, and did I owe you no reward for all the terrors of these
many years? Moreover he is foolish who strives to slay the father and
spares the son. He is dead and I am glad that I killed him, though he
haunts me now with the others.'

'And shall haunt you eternally. Now let us make an end. You have your
sword, use it if you can. It will be easier to die fighting.'

'I cannot,' he groaned; 'my doom is upon me.'

'As you will,' and I came at him, sword up.

He ran from before me, moving backwards and keeping his eyes fixed upon
mine, as I have seen a rat do when a snake is about to swallow it. Now
we were upon the edge of the crater, and looking over I saw an awful
sight. For there, some thirty feet beneath us, the red-hot lava glowing
sullenly beneath a shifting pall of smoke, rolled and spouted like a
thing alive. Jets of steam flew upwards from it with a screaming sound,
lines of noxious vapours, many-coloured, crept and twisted on its
surface, and