a low but cheerful and confident tone. "I am much mistaken or the enemy
have got the alarm, and are on the look-out for us."

The prospect of action was perhaps the only thing that could then have
diverted Herrera's thoughts from the painful subject pre-occupying them.
In his galled and irritated mood, driven to doubt of what he never
before had doubted, the idea of something to grapple with, of resistance
to overcome, an enemy to strive against, was a positive relief, and he
answered the Mochuelo quickly and fiercely.

"The better," said he. "Our expedition will not have been entirely
fruitless. Mochuelo, your men are brave and true. Night favours us. Let
the rebels come. We will give then a lesson they shall long remember."

"Nevertheless," replied the guerilla, "I would rather avoid them, for
they are twenty to one. One fight will not settle the matter, even
though we be victors. But they are gathering. Listen!"

Herrera listened, and from various quarters sounds that warned of
approaching danger reached his ears. On one hand, although at a
considerable distance, the clang of a cavalry trumpet was audible; on
the other, church and convent bells rang out a tocsin of alarm. The
sounds were taken up by other bells; in their rear, in front, on all
sides. The Mochuelo rode along the flank of the little column, which in
dead silence, and with rapid steps, followed El Tuerto, who, with Paco
and Velasquez, marched at its head. So dim and shadowy did the dark
figures of the guerillas appear, as they noiselessly strode along, that
they might have been taken for the spectres of the slain, risen from
some bloody battle field, and condemned to wander over the scene of
their former exploits. With words of praise and encouragement the
Mochuelo stimulated their progress.

"Forward, men," he said, "steady and silent! Every moment is worth a
million. There will be work for you before morning, but it is yet too
soon."

Full of confidence in their leader, undeterred by danger, but knowing
the necessity of speed and prudence in their perilous position, the
guerillas pressed on, keeping well together, and at a pace which it
seemed almost impossible they should be able to sustain. They did
sustain it, however; and, thanks to that circumstance, to the darkness,
and to the skilful guidance of El Tuerto, to whom each tree and rock of
that wild district was familiar, the Mochuelo's predictions were but
partially realized. More than once,