need for me to tell you what has occurred? You will know it within a few hours. Suffice it for you to know for the present, that the consequence of the Jaguar's daring achievement is the immediate surrender of Galveston, which cannot hold out against us any longer."
"Then we triumph!" one of the Campesinos exclaimed.
"Yes; but all is not over yet: if we have succeeded in taking the town of Galveston from the Mexicans, they have fifty others left, in which they can shut themselves up. Hence, believe me, instead of giving way to immoderate joy, and imprudent confidence, redouble, on the contrary, your efforts and self-denial, if you wish to remain victors to the end."
"But what is to be done to obtain the result we desire as much as you do?" the one who had already spoken asked.
"Follow blindly the counsels I give you, and obey without hesitation or comment the orders I send you. Will you promise me this?"
"Yes," they exclaimed, enthusiastically; "you alone, Don Benito, can guide us safely and ensure our victory."
There was a moment's silence. The man who had just been addressed as Don Benito went to a corner of the room hidden behind a curtain of green serge. This curtain he drew back, and behind it was an alabaster statue of the Virgin Soledad, with a lamp burning in front of it, and then turned to the others.
"On your knees, and take off your hats," he said.
They obeyed.
"Now," he continued, "swear to keep faithfully the promise you have just made me of your own accord; swear to be merciful to the conquered in battle, and gentle to the prisoners after the victory. At this price I pledge myself to support you; if not, I retire immediately from a cause which is at least dishonoured, if not lost."
The three men, after piously crossing themselves, stretched out their right arms toward the statue, saying in a firm voice —
"We swear it, by the share we hope in Paradise."
"It is well," Don Benito replied, as he drew the curtain across again and made them a sign to rise; "I know you are too thoroughly Caballeros to break so solemn an oath."
The Colonel, confounded by this singular scene, which he did not at all comprehend, did not know what to do, when he fancied he heard an indistinct sound not far from him. Drawing himself up at once, he concealed himself behind the hedge, rather alarmed as to the cause of this noise, which was rapidly approaching. Almost immediately he noticed several men coming gently up; they were four in number, as he soon made out, and carrying a fifth in their arms. They walked straight to the door, at which they tapped in a peculiar way.
"Who's there?" was asked from inside.
One of the newcomers replied, but in so low a tone, that it was impossible for the Colonel to hear the word pronounced. The door was opened, and the strangers entered; it was then closed again, but not until the opener had cast a scrutinizing glance round him.
"What does this mean?" the Colonel muttered.
"It means," a rough voice said in his ear, "that you are listening to what does not concern you, Colonel Melendez, and that it may prove dangerous to you."
The Colonel, astounded at this unexpected answer, and especially at being so well known, quickly drew a pistol from his belt, cocked it, and turned to his strange speaker.
"On my word," he answered, "there is no worse danger to incur than that of an immediate death, which I should not at all object to, I swear to you."
The stranger began laughing, and emerged from the thicket in which he was hidden. He was a powerful-looking man, and, like the Colonel, held a pistol in his hand.
"You are aware that duelling is forbidden in the Mexican army," he said, "so take my advice, sir, and put up that pistol, which, if it exploded, might entail very disagreeable consequences for you."
"Lower your weapon first," the Colonel said, coldly, "and then I will see what I have to do."
"Very good," the other remarked, still smiling, as he thrust his pistol into his belt. The Colonel imitated him.
"And now," the stranger continued, "I have to converse with you; but, as you can see, this spot is badly chosen for a secret interview."
"That is true," the Colonel interrupted, frankly assuming the tone of the singular man with whom chance had so unexpectedly brought him together.
"I am delighted that you are of my opinion. Well, Colonel, as it is so, be kind enough to accompany me merely a few paces, and I will lead you to a spot I know, which is perfectly adapted for the conversation we must have together."
"I am at your orders, Caballero," the Colonel answered, with a bow.
"Come, then," the stranger added, as he made a start.
The Colonel followed him. The stranger led him to the spot where he had tied up his horse, by the side of which another was now standing. The stranger stopped.
"Let us mount," he said.
"What for?" the young officer asked.
"To be off, of course. Are you not returning to Galveston?"
"Certainly; still – "
"Still," the stranger interrupted, "you would have had no objection to prowl a little longer round the rancho, I presume?"
"I confess it."
"Well, on my honour, you are wrong, for two excellent reasons: the first is, that you will learn nothing more than you have surmised, – that is to say, that the rancho is the headquarters of the insurrection. You see that I am frank with you."
"I perceive it. And now, what is your second reason?"
"It is very simple: you run the risk, at any moment, of being saluted with a bullet, and you know that the Texans are decent marksmen."
"Certainly; but you know also that this reason possesses but slight value for me."
"I beg your pardon; courage does not consist, in my opinion, at least, in sacrificing one's life without reason; it consists, on the contrary, in being only killed for a good price, – that is to say, for a motive worth the trouble."
"Thanks for the lecture, Caballero."
"Shall we be off?"
"At once, if you will be good enough to tell me who you are and where we are going?"
"I am surprised that you did not recognise me long ago, for we have been for some time past on excellent, if not intimate terms."
"That may be; the sound of your voice is rather familiar to me, and I fancy I have heard it before, but it is impossible for me to recall either when or under what circumstances."
"By Heaven, Colonel! You will allow me to remark that you have a preciously short memory. But since our last meeting, so many events have occurred, that it is not surprising you should have forgotten me. With one word I will recall everything to your mind – I am John Davis, the ex-slave dealer."
"You!" the Colonel exclaimed, with a start of surprise.
"Yes, I am that person."
"Ah! Ah!" the
