had made his appearance. He was unarmed, and his head bare; but his face, stamped with boldness and defiance, had a gloomily malicious expression, which gave him a most unpleasant appearance. Curumilla accompanied him. The count made a sign, and silence was re-established.
"What is the meaning of this?" the colonel asked in a haughty tone.
Don Louis did not allow him to continue.
"Silence!" he said in a firm voice, turning a flashing glance upon him.
Subdued, in spite of himself, by the count's accent, the colonel blushed and remained silent. Don Louis continued: —
"Brothers and comrades," he said, "unfortunately for us, circumstances have placed us in an exceptional situation. On all sides treachery surrounds us. By falsehood after falsehood, trick upon trick, they have led us onto this desert, where we are abandoned to ourselves, far from all help, and having our courage alone to count upon to save us. Yesterday Don Sebastian Guerrero, believing himself at length sure of the success of his infamous plans, which he has so long been forming against us, decided on raising the mask. He declared us outlaws, and branded us with the disgraceful epithet of pirates. Scarce two hours after his departure we were attacked by Indians. Our enemies' measures were well calculated, and were within an ace of success. But God was on the watch, and saved us this time again. Now, do you know the man who made himself the generals right arm, and carried into effect the odious treachery of which we were so nearly the victims?
"This man," he said, pointing with his finger with an expression of crushing contempt, "is the villain who, since our departure from Guaymas, has attached himself to us, and never left us. He pretended to love and defend us, that he might surprise our secrets, and sell them to our enemies. It is the wretch whom we treated as a brother – to whom we offered the most delicate and enduring attention. It is the man, lastly, who assumes the title of colonel, and name of Francisco Florés, and who lied in doing so; for he is a nameless half-breed, surnamed El Garrucholo, ex-lieutenant of El Buitre, that ferocious brigand who commands a cuadrilla of salteadores that has desolated Upper Mexico for several years. Look at him! Now that he is detected, he trembles – villain that he is; for he knows that the supreme hour of justice has rung for him."
In fact, at this terrible revelation, thus made in the presence of all, the bandit's boldness suddenly gave way, and an expression of hideous terror contracted his features.
"See," the count continued, "the men whom our enemies are not ashamed to employ against us; and yet they treat us as pirates! Well, we accept this brand, brothers; and these bandits who have fallen into our hands shall be judged according to the summary law of pirates."
The adventurers warmly applauded their chief's address. Besides, all recognised the truth and logic of his remarks. In the critical situation in which they found themselves they could forgive nothing: clemency would have been culpable weakness. They could only regain their position by boldness and energy, by terrifying their foes, and compelling them to treat with them. The count sat down again.
"Don Cornelio," he said, "read to the accused the charges brought against him."
The Spaniard rose, and began a long charge against the colonel, supported by numerous letters written by Don Francisco, or received by him from various persons, principally General Guerrero, which clearly and indubitably proved the colonel's guilt. Don Cornelio finished by describing the interview on the previous day between Don Francisco, El Buitre, and the Apache chief. The adventurers listened to this long enumeration of crimes and felonies in the most profound silence. When Don Cornelio had ended the count addressed the colonel.
"Do you recognise the truth of the charge brought against you?"
The bandit raised his head: his mind was made up, and he shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.
"Of what use to deny?" he said. "It is all true."
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