nder, springing his horse a length or two
forward, "What is it, sirrah?"

"The enemy, S'nor Colonel," responded the dwarf, sliding close in to the
stirrup.

"Enemy! What enemy?"

"Them we missed catching--Don Ruperto, the Irlandes, the big Tejano."

"Ha!--They!--Where?"

"Close by, S'nor. I saw them round a great camp-fire up in the
mountains. They're not there now. I came on to tell you. I ran as
fast as ever I was able, but they've been following. I could hear the
tramp of their horses behind all the way. They must be near at hand
now. Hark!"

"Patria y Libertad!"

The cry came from without, in the tone of a charging shibboleth, other
voices adding, "Mueran los tyrannos!"

Instantaneously succeeded by the cracking of carbines, with shouts, and
the clash of steel against steel--the sounds of a hand-to-hand fight,
which the stamping and snorting of horses proclaimed between cavalry.

Never was conflict of shorter duration; over almost before they in the
courtyard could realise its having commenced. The confused sounds of
the _melee_ lasted barely a minute when a loud huzza, drowning the
hoof-strokes of the retreating horses, told that victory had declared
itself for one side or the other. They who listened were not long in
doubt as to which sent up that triumphant cheer. Through the front
gate, standing open, burst a mass of mounted men, some carrying lances
couched for the thrust, others with drawn sabres, many of their blades
dripping blood. On came they into the courtyard, still vociferating:
"Mueran los tyrannos!" while he at their head, soon as showing himself,
called out in a commanding voice, "Rendite?"

By this a change had taken place in the tableau of figures beside the
carriage. The Hussars having reined back, had gathered in a ruck around
their colonel, irresolute how to act. Equally unresolved he to order
them. That cry, "Country and Liberty," had struck terror to his heart;
and now seeing those it came from, recognising the three who rode
foremost--as in the clear moonlight he could--the blood of the craven
ran cold. They were the men he had subjected to insult, direct
degradation; and he need look for no mercy at their hands. With a spark
of manhood, even such as despair sometimes inspires, he would have shown
fight. Major Ramirez would, and did; for at the first alarm he had
galloped out to the gate and there met death.

Not so Santander, who, although he had taken his swo