IVER--NO MEANS OF CROSSING--SPANISH
SOLDIERS IN PURSUIT--A TARABITA OR ROPE-BRIDGE--DANGEROUS CROSSING--THE
BRIDGE CUT--OUR ESCAPE--SOUNDS OF FIRING--WE FIND SHELTER IN THE HUT OF
AN INDIAN, WHOSE SON UNDERTAKES TO GUIDE US.

By the aid of Don Jose and other friends to whom I had letters, I
ascertained that Dr Cazalla and Mr Duffield had been brought into
Bogota, and were confined, with several other persons whom I knew, in
the chief prison of the city--although they had not yet undergone the
mockery of a trial, which would precede their execution. Don Jose had
made every exertion to obtain their liberation, but in vain. The savage
Murillo, it was said, had resolved to shoot the whole of them. As there
was no English Consul at that time in Bogota, and no one who dared
openly to take Uncle Richard's part, I determined, according to the
advice I had received, to beard the lion in his den, and threaten him
with the vengeance of England should Mr Duffield be injured. I was
also to point out to Murillo the disgrace of destroying a man of such
high scientific attainments as Dr Cazalla, and to plead that he might
be banished to England, where he could render service to the human race.

Mr Laffan was quite willing to accompany me as interpreter. "We may
bamboozle the scoundrel, and succeed where others have failed," observed
the dominie. "There is nothing like impudence,--or a bold bearing, as
some would call it,--when one has to deal with a fellow of this sort."

We set out, accordingly, for the viceroy's palace. On our arrival we
found numerous officers hurriedly coming and going, but most of them
merely glanced at us and passed on. In the ante-room there was a motley
assemblage of persons of all ranks. Some had come with petitions,
others had been summoned to undergo examinations; and several--
informers, I have no doubt--were hoping to obtain a reward for their
treachery. I sent in my card by an aide-de-camp, requesting an
interview with his Excellency. To my surprise, we were almost
immediately admitted. The general was seated at a table covered with
papers--two or three officers standing near him. His countenance did
not belie his character. Although the expression of his mouth was
concealed by his huge moustache, the dark eyes which gleamed forth from
under his shaggy brows, and the frown which wrinkled his high forehead,
betokened his savage disposition.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" he asked ab