she saw a
dark form--that of a man--rushing forward and flinging himself upon
Tiburcio.

The young man, before he could place himself in an attitude of defence,
received a severe wound, and losing his balance fell to the ground. The
next moment his enemy was over him. For some minutes the two struggled
together in silence--nothing was heard but their loud quick breathing.
The knife of Cuchillo, already stained with blood, had escaped from his
hand, and lay gleaming upon the ground without his being able to reach
it.

"Now, villain, we are quits," cried Tiburcio, who with an effort of
supreme strength had got uppermost, and was kneeling upon the breast of
the outlaw. "Villain!" repeated he, as he endeavoured to get hold of
his poignard: "you shall die the death of an assassin."

Places had suddenly changed--Tiburcio was now the aggressor, but at this
moment a third personage appeared upon the scene. It was Don Estevan.

"Hold," screamed Rosarita, "hold, for the love of the Holy Virgin! This
young man is my father's guest; his life is sacred under our roof."

Don Estevan grasped the arm that was raised to strike Cuchillo, and as
Tiburcio turned to see what thus interfered between him and his
vengeance, the outlaw glided from under him.

Tiburcio now sprang up, rolled his serape around his left arm, and
holding it as a shield, stood with his body inclined backward, his left
leg advanced, and his right hand firmly grasping his weapon, in the
attitude of an ancient gladiator. He appeared for a moment as if
choosing upon which of his antagonists he would first launch himself.

"You call this being quits!" cried Cuchillo, his breast still heaving
from the pressure to Tiburcio's knee. "Your life belongs to me--I only
lent it to you, and I shall now take it back."

"Come on, dog!" shouted Tiburcio, in answer; "and you too, Don Estevan,
you cowardly assassin! you who pay for the murder of defenceless
people."

The countenance of the Spaniard turned livid pale at this unexpected
accusation. He instantly drew his dagger, and crying out:--"Down with
him, Cuchillo!" rushed furiously forward to the attack.

No doubt Tiburcio would soon have succumbed before two such formidable
antagonists, but at this moment a red light flashed upon the combatants,
as Dona Rosarita, with a flaming torch in her hand, rushed forward
between them.

The aspect of Tiburcio, who, despite the odds against him, and the blood
that was ru