taking his hand, he looked up imploringly in his face.

"Save me, Senor!" he exclaimed in Spanish, "you have the power if you
will venture to do it. I am flying from what they call justice--the
tyranny of our cruel task-masters. If I am captured, my death is
certain. You are noble and generous, and I throw myself on your mercy."

The appeal thus made, with all the energy of despair, was difficult to
resist. My father's feelings were enlisted on the side of the fugitive;
but he looked round at my mother and us, who now stood grouped about
him, and remembered the difficulties to which we might be exposed,
should he yield to the promptings of his heart, from the anger of the
Spanish authorities. The Indian divined his thoughts.

"You run no danger," he continued. "Far be it from me to cause you to
suffer for your charity. No one saw me approach your house; neither did
your servants observe me enter it. I was on my way through the
mountains to the far interior, but not daring to enter any house for
food and rest, I felt that my strength was forsaking me, and that I
could not hope to combat with the difficulties of the road. If you
cannot shelter me, noble Senor, either I must die from fatigue, or be
captured by my enemies."

"Of what crime have you been guilty, that you thus seek to fly from
justice?" asked my father.

"Of no crime, Senor, believe me," replied the Indian in a proud tone,
rising to his feet as he spoke. "Of no crime in the sight of Heaven, or
even of men, if they had regard to justice. I was selected for the
hated _Meta_, I, a descendant of the great Incas, was ordered to work as
a slave--a _Pongo_ in the house of a sub-delegado, a man noted for his
crimes and cruelty. I refused to perform the disgraceful office--I was
dragged there by force--with a thong he endeavoured to frighten me into
performing the work he ordered. His rage surpassed all bounds; he
struck me again and again. Was I tamely to submit? My dormant spirit
was aroused. I at length struck him again; and when he rushed at me in
his fury, I felled him to the ground. I attempted to fly, but I was
captured ere I could do so, and was borne off to prison, there to await
my doom, which would have been death. My name was unknown. They
thought I was an humble Indian; but some of my race were at hand, and,
aided by them, I effected my escape from prison. My friends could not
conceal me, and my only course was instant flight into