ter!"

So quickly did the practised artillerists of Veraegui handle their
piece, that almost on the instant it was loaded and discharged for the
third time. The ball passed once more through the heavy door; the leaf
gave way and fell back with a crash, leaving the entrance open.

Tres-Villas, sword in hand, rushed into the gateway, followed by his
faithful adherents.

"Where is the dog Arroyo?" cried he, bounding forward among the thick of
the brigands, and cutting down every one within reach of his sword
before an answer could be given. "On, my men!" he continued, "neither
prisoners nor quarter!"

"I shall hang by the feet all who surrender!" thundered the voice of the
Catalan from behind.

But despite this moderate promise of mercy, not one of the bandits
offered to deliver himself up; and very soon the courtyard contained
only a pile of dead bodies of the insurgents--the few who still lived
having betaken themselves to the upper rooms of the building, where they
secured themselves from present death by barricading the doors.

"Where is the dog Arroyo? A thousand pesos to the man who can lead me
to the presence of the monster!" cried Don Rafael, vainly searching for
the guerilla leader.

But Arroyo and his associate Bocardo were sought for in vain: since it
will be remembered that both had gone off from the hacienda in search of
its fugitive mistress.

The dead bodies were examined one after the other, and with care, but no
Arroyo--no Bocardo--could be found among them.

"Let us on, Veraegui!" said Don Rafael. "We must attack them in their
stronghold. The chiefs must be hidden up yonder! There is no time to
be lost."

"Alas!" rejoined the Catalan, with a sigh, as he stood regarding the
dead bodies with an air of regret, "I fear, Colonel, our ropes will be
useless after all. These fellows are all dead; and, as for their
comrades up there, we shall have to set fire to their retreat, and burn
them alive in it. If we attempt to dislodge them otherwise, it will
cost us a goodly number of our people."

"Oh! do not set fire to the house, Senor Colonel!" interposed the
faithful domestic, in an appealing tone; "my poor master is there, and
would suffer with the rest. All his people, too, are with him, and in
the power of the brigands."

"It is true, what he says," rejoined Don Rafael, moved by the appeal of
the domestic; "and yet it will never do to let these fiends escape. If
we attack them, entrench