For some seconds there was a silence, pregnant with menace. The two men were standing face to face. This silence don Melchior de la Cruz was the first to break.

"Ah, ah, ah!" he said, bursting into a hoarse laugh, and sinking again on the border of the hammock, "Was I so wrong in saying to you, my dear sir, that you entered my house for the purpose of assassinating me?"

The adventurer bit his lip savagely, and the unlucky revolver.

"Well, no!" he exclaimed, in a loud voice; "No, I repeat, I will not kill you, for you are not worthy to die by the hand of an honest man; but I will compel you to confess the truth to me."

The young man looked at him with a singular expression. "Try it," he said, with a disdainful shrug of the shoulders.

Then he began carelessly rolling in his fingers a dainty husk cigarette, lit it, and while sending up to the ceiling a puff of blue and perfumed smoke, he said—

"Come, I am waiting for you."

"Good! This is what I propose to you: you are my prisoner, well, I will restore you to liberty if you will deliver do?a Dolores, I will not say into my hands, but into those of Count de la Saulay, her cousin, whom she is going to marry immediately."

"Hum! This is serious, my dear sir; please remember that I am my sister's legal guardian."

"How her guardian?"

"Yes, since our father is dead."

"Don Andrés de la Cruz dead?" the adventurer exclaimed, leaping up.

"Alas! Yes," the young man replied, hypocritically raising his eyes to heaven; "we had the grief of losing him the night before last, and he was buried yesterday morning; the poor old gentleman could not resist the frightful misfortunes which have overwhelmed our family. Sorrow crushed him: his end was most affecting."

There was a silence, during which Oliver walked up and down the room. All at once the adventurer stopped in front of the young man.

"Without any further circumlocution," he said to him, "will you, yes or no, restore your sister her liberty?"

"No!" Melchior replied, resolutely.

"Good," the adventurer coldly remarked; "in that case, all the worse for you."

At this moment the door opened, and a tall and elegantly-dressed young man entered the room. At the sight of this young man a cunning smile illumined don Melchior's face.

"Eh!" he said, to himself, "Things may turn out differently from what this dear don Adolfo supposes."

The young man bowed politely, and walked up to the master of the house, with whom he shook hands.

"I am disturbing you?" he said, taking a careless glance at the supposed monk.

"On the contrary, my dear don Diego, you could not arrive more opportunely: but by what chance do I see you at so unusual an hour?"

"I have come to bring you good news: Count de la Saulay, your private enemy, is in our power; but, as he is a Frenchman, and certain considerations must be maintained, the general has decided to send him, under a good escort, to our most illustrious president. Another piece of good news, you are intrusted with the command of this escort."

"?Demonios!" don Melchior exclaimed, triumphantly, "You are a good friend. But now it is my turn: look carefully at that monk, do you recognize him? Well, this man is no other than the adventurer called don Adolfo, don Olivero, don Jaime, or by a hundred names, who has so long been sought in vain."

"Can it be possible?" don Diego exclaimed.

"It is true," don Adolfo said.

"Within an hour you will be dead—shot like a traitor and bandit!" Melchior exclaimed.

Don Adolfo shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.

"It is evident," don Diego observed, "that this man will be shot; but the president alone has the right of deciding his fate, as he declares that he is a Frenchman."

"Why all the demons seem to belong to that accursed race!" don Melchior exclaimed, quite disconcerted.

"Well, really I cannot tell you exactly; as regards this man, as he is a daring fellow, and you might be considerably embarrassed by him, I will send him to the president under a separate escort."

"No, no, if you wish to do me a service; let me take him with me; do not be alarmed, I will take such precautions, that, clever as he is, he shall not escape me; still, it will be as well to disarm him."

The adventurer silently handed his weapons to don Diego. At this moment a footman came in, and announced that the escort was waiting in the street.

"Very good," said Melchior, "let us be off."

The servant gave his master a machete, a brace of pistols, and a sarape, and buckled on his spurs.

"Now we can start," said don Melchior.

"Come," said don Diego, "se?or don Adolfo, or whatever be your name, be kind enough to go first."

The adventurer obeyed without a word. Twenty-five or thirty soldiers attired in a rather fantastic uniform, mostly in rags, and resembling bandits, much more than honest soldiers, were waiting in the street.

These men were all well mounted and armed. In the midst of them were the Count de la Saulay, and his two servants under strict guard; a smile of joy lit up don Melchior's face at the sight of the gentleman; the latter did not deign to appear to notice his presence. A horse was prepared for don Adolfo; at a sign from don Diego he mounted, and placed himself of his own accord by the side of the count, with whom he shook hands. Don Melchior also mounted.

"Now, my friend," said don Diego, "a pleasant journey to you. I am going back to the government house."

"Good bye then," said Melchior, and the escort set out.

It was about two in the afternoon, the greatest heat of the day had passed, the shops were beginning to open again, and the tradesmen standing in the door watched the soldiers pass with a yawn. Don Melchior rode a few yards ahead of his troop; his demeanour was cold and sedate, he made vain efforts to restrain the joy which he experienced on at length having his implacable enemies in his hands. After they had ridden some distance from the town, the lieutenant who commanded the escort, approached don Melchior.

"Our men are fatigued," he said to him, "it is time to think about camping for the night."

"I am willing to do so," the other replied, "provided that the spot is a secure one."

"I know a few paces from here," the lieutenant continued, "a deserted rancho, where we shall be very comfortable."

"Let us go there then."

The lieutenant acted as guide, and the soldiers soon entered a path scarce traced through a very thick wood, and at the end of about three quarters of an hour reached a large clearing, in the middle of which stood the announced rancho. The officer gave his men orders to dismount. The latter eagerly obeyed; for they seemed anxious to rest after their fatigue.

Leaping from his horse, don Melchior entered the rancho, in order to assure himself of the condition it was in. But he had hardly set his foot in the interior, ere he was suddenly seized, rolled in a sarape, and bound and gagged, even before he had the time to attempt a useless defense.

At the end of some minutes, he heard a clanking of sabres, and a regular sound of footsteps outside the rancho; the soldiers, or at least a portion of them, were going away, without paying any attention to him.

Almost at the same moment he was seized by the feet and shoulders, lifted up, and carried off. After a few rapid steps, it seemed to him as if his bearers were taking him down steps that entered the ground; then, after about ten minutes march, he was softly laid on a bed, composed of furs as he supposed, and left alone. An utter silence prevailed around the prisoner, he was really alone. At length a slight noise became audible, this noise gradually increased, and soon became loud; it resembled the walk of several persons, whose footsteps grated on sand.

This noise suddenly ceased. The young man felt himself lifted up and carried off once more. They carried him for a very considerable distance, and the bearers relieved each other at regular distances.

At length they stopped again; from the fresher and sharper air that smote his face, the prisoner conjectured that he had left the tunnel and was now in the open country. He was laid down on the ground.

"Set the prisoner at liberty," a voice said, whose dry metallic sound struck the young man.

His bonds were at once unfastened, and the gag and the handkerchief that covered his eyes removed.

Don Melchior leaped on his feet and looked around him. The spot where he found himself was the top of a rather lofty hill in the centre of an immense plain. The night was dark, and a little to the right in the distance gleamed like so many stars, the lights of the houses in Puebla. The young man formed the centre of a rather large group, drawn up in a circle round him. These men were masked, each of them held in his right hand a torch of ocote wood, whose flame agitated by the wind, threw a blood red hue over the country, and imparted to it a fantastic appearance. Don Melchior felt a shudder of terror run over his whole body, he understood that he was in the power of that mysterious Masonic association, of which............