onsisted of two parties, each headed by its respective
chief. Both gangs were apparently subject to the leadership of the
_rancho's_ proprietor; and in this man I recognized the _patron_ who
inquired so minutely about my biography and prospects. His companions
addressed him either as "El senor patron" or "Don Rafael." I was
surveyed very closely by the picturesque group of bandits, who retired
into the interior of the _rancho_,--a hut made of planks and sails
rescued from wrecks. My guard or sentinel consisted of but a single
vagabond, who amused himself by whetting a long knife on a hone, and
then trying its sharpness on a single hair and then on his finger.
Sometimes the scoundrel made a face at me, and drew the back of his
weapon across his throat.

The conversation within, which I felt satisfied involved my fate, was
a long one. I could distinctly overhear the murmuring roar of talk,
although I could not distinguish words. One sentence, however, did
not escape me, and its signification proved particularly
interesting:--"_Los muertos_," said the French dandy,--"_no
hablan_,"--Dead men tell no tales!

It is hard to imagine a situation more trying for a young, hearty, and
hopeful man. I was half naked; my skin was excoriated by the sun,
sand, and salt water; four bloodhounds were at my feet ready to fasten
on my throat at the bidding of a _desperado_; a piratical sentry,
knife in hand, kept watch over me, while a jury of _buccaneers_
discussed my fate within earshot. Dante's Inferno had hardly more
torments.

The _filibustero_ conclave lasted quite an hour without reaching a
conclusion. At length, after an unusual clamor, the _patron_ Rafael
rushed from the _rancho_ with a horseman's pistol, and, calling my
name, whirled me behind him in his strong and irresistible grasp. Then
facing both hands, with a terrible imprecation, he swore vengeance if
they persisted in requiring the death of HIS NEPHEW!

At the mention of the word "_nephew_," every one paused with a look of
surprise, and drawing near the excited man with expressions of
interest, agreed to respect his new-found relative, though they
insisted I should swear never to disclose the occurrence of which I
had been an unwilling witness. I complied with the condition
unhesitatingly, and shook hands with every one present except the
sentry, of whom I shall have occasion to speak hereafter.

It is astonishing what revulsions of manner, if not of feeling, take
pl