"In the case of a traitor we take the right," answered Sorillo
drily.--"But there is a further charge, Don Felipe Montilla, more
serious still. You have been proved false to your country; I accuse
you also of being false to your friend."

Hitherto, I am bound to admit, the guerilla chief had acted like a
perfectly impartial judge; now there was a ring of anger in his voice
and a dangerous glitter in his eyes. As to Montilla, I could hardly
suppress an exclamation of surprise at the change in his appearance.
No longer boldly erect, he stood with drooping head, pale cheeks, and
downcast eyes. In the first act he had behaved like a man of spirit;
the second he began like a craven.

"Listen!" exclaimed Sorillo sternly, and his first words told me what
would follow. "For many years there has lived in Lima a man who loves
the Indians. He saw that they were treated as dogs, and because of his
great pity he resolved to help them. To this end he worked day and
night, making many enemies among the rulers of the country. They tried
to turn him from his purpose, now with threats, again with offers of
heavy bribes: he would not be moved. So badly were the Indians treated
that it mattered little whether they lived or died. They banded
together, procured arms and ammunition, and determined to fight for
their liberty. Their friend sent them word that the attempt was
hopeless; but they were very angry, and would not listen. Then he left
his home to speak to them himself, and endeavour to dissuade them from
their purpose."

Montilla had not once raised his head, and now his limbs quivered. As
for me, I sat listening with fascinated interest.

"Side by side with this friend of the Indians," the chief continued,
"there lived a Spanish gentleman, who told the viceroy falsely that his
neighbour was going to the mountains to raise the standard of
rebellion. The viceroy, who was frightened, sent soldiers to seize
him. Second in command of the party was a lieutenant, young in years
but old in crime. To him this Spaniard went secretly. 'If this man
should be killed in the scuffle,' said he, 'you can come to me for five
thousand dollars.'

"The lieutenant did his best to earn the money, and thought he had
succeeded. As it chanced, however, his victim did not die, but his
estates were confiscated and given to the man who had betrayed him."

The speaker stopped. All was still; save for the leaping waters of the
torrent,