e takes a strange way to do it."

He ceased to speak, for at that moment a man was seen approaching. He
moved about like one who was searching for something. At last he caught
sight of the bound men, and ran towards them, drawing his knife as he
did so. For one instant a feeling of horror shot through the hearts of
Lawrence and Quashy, but next moment they were relieved, for they
recognised in the approaching man the features of their old acquaintance
of the Andes, the robber Antonio.

"I come to pay my debt," he said, going down on one knee, and severing
the cords which bound Lawrence, who heartily showered on him all the
Spanish terms for thanks and gratitude that he could recall. Of course
Quashy was also set free, and was equally profuse in his grateful
expressions, but Antonio cut them both short.

"Come, we must be quick," he said, and hurried away.

As they crossed the spot where the recent fight with the Indians had
taken place, Quashy picked up one of the spears which lay on the ground,
and Lawrence, to his great satisfaction, discovered his favourite cudgel
lying where he had been knocked down. He picked it up, almost
affectionately, and hurried on.

Antonio was in evident haste. Leading them through the hamlet, he went
towards the corral, where, it could be seen, a party of the bandits were
standing as if in wait. Suddenly they heard a noise behind them, and
observed a party of men with muskets on their shoulders surrounding a
prisoner. Antonio drew his companions into the shelter of a bush till
they should pass.

"It is Conrad of the Mountains," he whispered, while a fierce expression
lighted up his eyes. "They go to shoot him. He _must_ not die!"

As what seemed to be the firing-party advanced, followed by a straggling
group of ruffians, Lawrence looked with profound interest and pity
towards one of whom he had heard so much. The prisoner's head hung down
as he approached the bush, but on passing it he looked up. The sight of
his face sent a shock of surprise and consternation to the hearts of
Lawrence and Quashy, for the doomed man was no other than their friend
Pedro!

Lawrence turned quickly to Antonio. "Conrad?" he asked, pointing to
Pedro.

"Si, senhor," replied the outlaw.

When the procession had passed, Lawrence stepped from behind the bush,
and quietly joined it without being recognised by Pedro. He had not at
that moment the most remote idea of what he intended to do; but