re right; they are Griscelli's blood-hounds. Is it possible that a
prisoner or a slave has escaped, and Griscelli will ask us to join in the
hunt?"

"Join in the hunt! You surely don't mean that you hunt men in this
country?"

"Sometimes--when the men are slaves or rebels. It is a sport the general
greatly enjoys. Yet it seems very strange; at this time of night,
too--_Dios mio!_ can it be possible?"

"Can what be possible, Captain Guzman?" I exclaimed, in some excitement,
for a terrible suspicion had crossed my mind.

"Can what be possible? In Heaven's name speak out!"

But, instead of answering, Guzman went forward to meet Griscelli. I
followed him.

"Good-evening, gentlemen," said the general; "I am glad you are so
punctual. I have brought your friend, Senor Fortescue. As you were taken
together, it seems only right that you should be released together. It
would be a pity to separate such good friends. You see, I am as good as my
word. You don't speak. Are you not grateful?"

"That depends on the conditions, general."

"I make no conditions whatever. I let you go--neither more nor
less--whither you will. But I must warn you that, twenty minutes after you
are gone, I shall lay on my hounds. If you outrun them, well and good; if
not, _tant pis pour vous_. I shall have kept my word. Are you not
grateful, senor Fortescue?"

"No; why should I be grateful for a death more terrible than hanging. Kill
us at once, and have done with it. You are a disgrace to the noble
profession of arms, general, and the time will come--"

"Another word, and I will throw you to the hounds without further parley,"
broke in Griscelli, savagely.

"Better keep quiet; there is nothing to be gained by roiling him,"
whispered Carmen.

I took his advice and held my peace, all the more willingly as there was
something in Carmen's manner which implied that he did not think our case
quite so desperate as might appear.

"Dismount and give up your weapons," said Griscelli.

Resistance being out of the question, we obeyed with the best grace we
could; but I bitterly regretted having to part with the historic Toledo
and my horse Pizarro; he had carried me well, and we thoroughly understood
each other. The least I could do was to give him his freedom, and, as I
patted his neck by way of bidding him farewell, I slipped the bit out of
his mouth, and let him go.

"Hallo! What is that--a horse loose? Catch him, some of you," shouted
Griscelli