of his body.

The other prisoners in the batch of the condemned hung their heads,
looking obstinately on the ground. But Gaspar Ruiz kept on repeating:
"What should I desert for to the Royalists? Why should I desert? Tell
me, Estaban!"

He addressed himself to the sergeant, who happened to belong to the same
part of the country as himself. But the sergeant, after shrugging his
meagre shoulders once, paid no further attention to the deep murmuring
voice at his back. It was indeed strange that Gaspar Ruiz should desert.
His people were in too humble a station to feel much the disadvantages
of any form of government. There was no reason why Gaspar Ruiz should
wish to uphold in his own person the rule of the King of Spain. Neither
had he been anxious to exert himself for its subversion. He had joined
the side of Independence in an extremely reasonable and natural manner.
A band of patriots appeared one morning early, surrounding his father's
ranche, spearing the watch-dogs and hamstringing a fat cow all in the
twinkling of an eye, to the cries of "Viva La Libertad!" Their officer
discoursed of Liberty with enthusiasm and eloquence after a long and
refreshing sleep. When they left in the evening, taking with them some
of Ruiz, the father's, best horses to replace their own lamed animals,
Gaspar Ruiz went away with them, having been invited pressingly to do so
by the eloquent officer.

Shortly afterwards a detachment of Royalist troops, coming to pacify the
district, burnt the ranche, carried off the remaining horses and
cattle, and having thus deprived the old people of all their worldly
possessions, left them sitting under a bush in the enjoyment of the
inestimable boon of life.

II

GASPAR Ruiz, condemned to death as a deserter, was not thinking either
of his native place or of his parents, to whom he had been a good son on
account of the mildness of his character and the great strength of his
limbs. The practical advantage of this last was made still more
valuable to his father by his obedient disposition. Gaspar Ruiz had an
acquiescent soul.

But it was stirred now to a sort of dim revolt by his dislike to die the
death of a traitor. He was not a traitor. He said again to the sergeant:
"You know I did not desert, Estaban. You know I remained behind amongst
the trees with three others to keep the enemy back while the detachment
was running away!"

Lieutenant Santierra, little more than a boy at the time, an