e act, just in time to guard a sweeping cut dealt at his head.
With a straight point he thrust his sword through teeth, gullet, and
skull of his tall adversary, until it stood six inches out behind his
head. Then, without a moment's pause, he leaped upon the nearest of the
other bandits.

Awe-stricken, they all gave back, and it seemed as if the youth would
yet win the day single-handed against them all, when a shout was heard,
and half a dozen men of the same stamp, if not the same band, came
running to the rescue.

Lawrence drew hastily back to his protecting wall.

"Pray, Manuela, pray," he gasped; "we are in God's hands."

At that moment two shots were heard away on their right, and two of the
advancing bandits fell. An instant later, and Quashy bounded upon the
scene with a high trumpet-shriek like a wild elephant. Pedro followed,
brandishing the rifle which he had just discharged with such fatal
effect. Lawrence joined them with a genuine British cheer, but their
adversaries did not await the onset. They turned, fled, and speedily
scattered themselves among the ruins.

"T'ank God, massa, we's in time," said Quashy, wiping with his sleeve
the perspiration that streamed from his face, as they returned quickly
to Manuela.

"We must not wait a moment here," said Pedro, hurriedly. "There may be
more of the villains about. But you are wounded, Senhor Armstrong."

"Not badly," said Lawrence. "It might have been worse, but the fellow
was in such a hurry that the edge of his sabre turned, and I got only a
blow with the side of it. If I had only had my good cudgel--by the way,
it must be in the hole. It was in my hand when--Stay, I'll return in a
few seconds."

He ran back to his late tomb, and quickly returned in triumph with his
favourite weapon.

"Come, we must get away from this at once," said Pedro, turning to
Manuela. "No time for explanations. Are you hurt?"

"No; thank God. Let us go," replied the girl, who was pale and haggard,
as she staggered towards them.

"Take my arm," said Lawrence, presenting his wounded limb.

The girl pointed with trembling hand to the blood.

"It is nothing--a mere scratch," said Lawrence.

In his anxiety he forgot to speak in Spanish. Manuela appeared as if
about to sink with fear. He caught her, lifted her in his arms as if
she had been a little child, and, following Pedro's lead, left the place
which had been the scene of so many terrible events.

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