cried Plaza; "it's your old friend Mariano. Well, friend or
foe, this is his last fight if my blade can reach him."

Yes, the officer who had accomplished this daring flanking movement was
none other than Santiago Mariano, who, with the flush of success on his
handsome face, was again leading his men to the charge.

"Viva el Rey!" he cried, and his voice rang high and clear above the
din. "Down with the bandits!"

Crash! We were into them, fighting our way through desperately.
Horses pranced, and bit, and kicked. Men shouted triumphantly, or went
down with a cry of agony on their lips. Here a gap was made and filled
at once, as some daring fighter urged his way forward.

Alzura rode with the colonel, carrying the colours, and we pressed
after them, knowing that our sole chance of safety was to get through
the Royalist squadron. On coming out at the other side we heard a
voice crying, "Bravo! bravo, my bold hussars!" and there was General
Miller, who seemed to scent a fight as a hound scents its quarry.

By this time Santiago had re-formed his squadron, and was dashing at
our rear, when from the rocks above us sprang a line of fire, and his
horsemen, wheeling round, rapidly withdrew. While we had been
fighting, General Miller had rallied the beaten battalions and posted
them in a commanding position to cover our ride through the pass.

That night in bivouac we counted Santiago's venture had cost us more
than two hundred men, all the spare horses, and a quantity of stores.

"I hope you are proud of your Royalist friend," said Alzura to me. "He
has done us a nice bit of mischief."

"He's a smart soldier."

"He is that," agreed Plaza, "and a splendid swordsman. I had a good
bout with him, but could not pass his guard, though he was defending
himself against three of us."

"Did any one see the major after he fell?" I interrupted.

"No," said Alzura; "but I feel sure he is dead, as the bullet passed
through his forehead. He was a grim old fighter, and I'm sorry he's
gone."

"So am I. But he died a soldier's death, poor old chap," said Cordova.
"We must have lost heavily since the retreat began. I wonder what
Sucre intends doing now."

"Why, continuing the retreat."

"To Lima? If so, he won't have a hundred men left by the time he
reaches the capital."

"Well, what can he do? We can't stay here and starve, and he can't
make the Royalists fight."

"As to starving," laughed Alzura, "I would as