the air and whithersoever his horse turned its head,
an empty space gaped before him, every antagonist retreating before him.
So close was the _melee_ that the soldiers stood in each other's way and
could not use their firearms for fear of shooting their comrades. The
lieutenant was the only man who did not avoid him. Like a true soldier
who considers wounds an honour, he did not trouble himself to recollect
that his adversary was superior to him both in strength and skill, but
strove incessantly to urge his horse towards him. Twice he struck the
fellow but he did not seem to feel the blow. Once he dealt him a skilful
thrust in the side, but the sword bent nearly double without entering
his body. "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Fatia Negra--he must have put on a coat
of mail beneath his jacket--and the same instant he countered so
savagely that if the lieutenant had not dodged his head, he must have
lost it. As it was the sword pierced through his shako and out poured
the gold pieces by thousands on to the highroad.

At the sight of the shower of gold pieces, Fatia Negra roared like a
demon. What he had done hitherto was a mere joke--now the battle began
in grim earnest.

"Down with your heads, down with your headpieces!" he thundered, and
with the fury of a lion he flung himself on his opponents, everyone of
whom wore on his head the dangerous magnet which irresistibly attracted
his flashing sword.

He himself was invulnerable. Neither sword nor lance could penetrate his
shirt of mail. And meanwhile his companions were rapidly galloping up.
Now another shako flew into the air and the horse's hoofs trampled the
falling ducats in the mud.

"Shoot down his horse!" cried the voice of the post-office functionary
from the rear, and the same instant three pistol shots resounded. At the
third, which struck him full in the chest, the animal reared high in the
air. Fatia Negra, perceiving the danger, and before the horse had time
to fall and crush him, leaped from the saddle on to the ground.

And now he attacked the enemy on foot. He was blind now. He saw nothing
before him but blood and ducats--he was drunk with both.

All at once he observed that he was alone, and, fighting the air--he no
longer felt the contact of swords, or skulls or human bodies. After the
officer had been wounded, the post-office functionary took the command
and concluded it advisable not to await the arrival of the whole robber
band. It was his duty to save