ts together. Meanwhile they were joined by two
others, in one of whom we could recognize, by his costume, the real leader
of the party.

"I am captain in the light dragoons," said I, repeating my declaration.

"_Morte de Dios!_" replied he; "it is false; you are a spy!"

The word was repeated from lip to lip by his party, and I saw, in their
lowering looks and darkened features, that the moment was a critical one
for me.

"Down with your arms!" cried he, turning to the Frenchmen. "Surrender
yourselves our prisoners; I'll not bid ye twice!"

The Frenchmen turned upon me an inquiring look, as though to say that upon
me now their hopes entirely reposed.

"Do as he bids you," said I; while at the same moment I sprang to my legs,
and gave a loud, shrill whistle, the last echo of which had not died away
in the distance ere it was replied to.

[Illustration: THE TABLES TURNED.]

"Make no resistance now," said I to the Frenchmen; "our safety depends on
this."

While this was passing two of the Spaniards had dismounted, and detaching a
coil of rope which hung from their saddle-peak, were proceeding to tie the
prisoners wrist to wrist; the others, with their carbines to the shoulder,
covered us man by man, the chief of the party having singled out me as his
peculiar prey.

"The fate of Mascarenhas might have taught you better," said he, "than to
play this game." And then added with a grim smile, "But we'll see if an
Englishman will not make as good a carbonado as a Portuguese!"

This cruel speech made my blood run cold, for I knew well to what he
alluded. I was at Lisbon at the time it happened, but the melancholy fate
of Julian Mascarenhas, the Portuguese spy, had reached me there. He was
burned to death at Torres Vedras!

The Spaniard's triumph over my terror was short-lived, indeed, for scarcely
had the words fallen from his lips, when a party of the Fourteenth,
dashing through the river at a gallop, came riding up. The attitude of the
Guerillas, as they sat with presented arms, was sufficient for my fellows
who needed not the exhortation of him who rode foremost of the party:--

"Ride them down, boys! Tumble them over! Flatten their broad beavers, the
infernal thieves!"

"Whoop!" shouted Mike, as he rode at the chief with the force of a
catapult. Down went the Spaniard, horse and all; and before he could
disentangle himself, Mike was upon him, his knee pressed upon his neck.

"Isn't it enough for ye to pilla