rattle of accoutrements. The patrol, after all. What
shall we do? To turn back would be fatal. The ravine is too deep to
descend. Climbing those rocks is out of the question. There is but one
alternative--we must charge right through them."

"How many men does a patrol generally consist of?"

"Sometimes two, sometimes four."

"May it not be a squadron on the march?"

"It may. No matter. We must charge them, all the same. Better die sword in
hand than be garroted on the plaza. We have one great advantage. We shall
take these fellows by surprise. Let us wait here in the shade, and the
moment they round that corner, go at them, full gallop."

The words were scarcely spoken, when two dragoons came in sight, then two
more.

"Four!" murmured Carmen. "The odds are not too great. We shall do it. Are
you ready? Now!"

The dragoons, surprised by our sudden appearance, pulled up and stood
stock-still, as if doubtful whether our intentions were hostile or
friendly; and we were at them almost before they had drawn their swords.

As I charged the foremost Spaniard, his horse swerved from the road, and
rolled with his rider into the ravine. The second, profiting by his
comrade's disaster, gave us the slip and galloped toward Caracas. This
left us face to face with the other two, and in little more than as many
minutes I had run my man through, and Carmen had hurled his to the ground
with a cleft skull.

"I thought we should do it," he said as he sheathed his sword. "But before
we ride on let us see who the fellows are, for, 'pon my soul, they have
not the looks of a patrol from Caracas."

As he spoke, Carmen dismounted and closely examined the prostrate men's
facings.

"_Caramba!_ They belong to the regiment of Irun."

"I remember them. They were in Murillo's _corp d'armee_ at Vittoria."

"I wish they were at Vittoria now. Their headquarters are at La Victoria!
Worse luck!"

"Why?"

"Because there may be more of them. You suggested just now the possibility
of a squadron. How if we meet a regiment?"

"We should be in rather a bad scrape."

"We are in a bad scrape, _amigo mio_. Unless, I am greatly mistaken the
regiment of Irun, or, at any rate, a squadron of it is on the march
hitherward. If they started at sunrise and rested during the heat of the
day, this is about the time the advance-guard would be here. Having no
enemy to fear in these parts, they would naturally break up into small
detachments; there has bee