sent to their scheme, but embraces it with alacrity. Its success will
be to her advantage as theirs, ridding her of that rival feared, and it
may be, restoring to her the affections of him on whom she has fixed her
own.

And now that confidence is established between her and her captors, she
gives them a full account of how things stand in the _tolderia_, and the
place where the captive is confined. Having heard which, Gaspar
counsels her how to act, as a last word, saying--

"Tell this white man, who has charge of the _nina_, he need no longer be
a prisoner himself, nor Shebotha's slave. Say to him, that men of his
own race and colour are near, ready to rescue and take him back to his
people, wherever they may be. Surely that will be enough to gain him to
our side, and get his help also."

Nacena hesitates for a time; then answering, says--

"No, not enough, I fear."

"But why?"

"The white man is not in his senses. He has lost them long ago. The
little left him is given to Shebotha. He fears her, as all our people
do; but he more than any. She has surely left him with commands to keep
a close watch. He does not disobey her; and it may be impossible for me
to speak with the paleface, much more get her away from him."

"_Caspita_!" exclaims Gaspar, his countenance again turning grave.
"There will be a difficulty there, I see it; if the man's crazed, as you
say he is, Nacena. You think he won't let you speak with the prisoner,
unless you have permission from Shebotha?"

"He will not--I am sure he will not."

"In that case all may be idle, and our scheme go for nought. _Por
Dios_! what's to be done?"

Pressing his head between his hands, the gaucho stands considering,
while the other three in silence await the result. His deliberation is
not for long; a bright idea has flashed across his brain, and with his
countenance also recovering brightness, he exclaims--

"_Gracios a Dios_! I know how it can be managed; I think I know."

Ludwig and Cypriano have it on their tongues to inquire what he means.
But before either can say a word, he is off and away in a rush toward
the scaffold-post to which Shebotha is tied.

Reaching it, he is seen with arms outstretched and in rapid play, as
though he were setting her free. Far from that, however, is his
intention. He but undoes the knot around her neck, and raising the
poncho, clutches at something which encircles her throat. He had
noticed this somethi