bound to his side, and he walked
between the troopers, to whose saddles he was fastened by two stout cords.

"Why don't you blow his brains out?"

"Because we should get into trouble. He is the colonel's slave, and
therefore valuable property. We have tried dragging him along; but the
villain throws himself down, and might get a limb broken, so all we can do
is prod him occasionally with the points of our sabres; but he does not
seem to mind us in the least. We have tried swearing; we might as well
whistle. Make haste, indeed!"

"A very hard case, I am sure. I sympathize with you, senores. Is the man a
runaway that you have to take such care of him?"

"That is just it. He ran away and rambled for months in the forest; and if
he had not stolen back to La Victoria and been betrayed by a woman, he
would never have been caught. After that, the colonel would not trust him
at large; but he thinks that at Caracas he will have him safe. And now,
senores, with your leave we must go on."

"Ah! You are the last, I suppose?"

"We are; curse it! The main body must be a league ahead by this time, and
we shall not reach Caracas for hours. _Adios!_"

"Let us rescue the poor devil!" I whispered to Carmen.

"By all means. One moment, senores; I beg your pardon--now, Fortescue!"

And with that we placed our horses across the road, whipped out our
pistols and pointed them at the troopers' heads, to their owners'
unutterable surprise.

"We are sorry to inconvenience you, senores," said my companion, politely;
"but we are going to release this slave, and we have need of your horses.
Unbuckle your swords, throw them on the ground, and dismount. No
hesitation, or you are dead men! Shall we treat them as they proposed to
treat the slave, Senor Fortescue? Blow out their brains? It will be safer,
and save us a deal of trouble."

"No! That would be murder. Let them go. They can do no harm. It is
impossible for them to overtake the, others on foot."

Meanwhile the soldiers, having the fear of being shot before them, had
dismounted and laid down their weapons.

"Go!" said Carmen, pointing northward, and they went.

"Your name?" (to the prisoner whose bonds I was cutting with my sword).

"Here they call me Jose. In my own country I was called Gahra--"

"Let it be Gahra, then. It is less common than Jose. Every other peon in
the country is called Jose. You are a native of Africa?"

"_Si, senor._"

"How came you hither?"

"I was