A Brother Sorely Tempted.

After stepping forth from the tent Uraga pauses to reflect. The course counselled by Roblez seems reasonable enough. If he can but force the girl’s consent, it will not be difficult to get it sealed. There are priests in the frontier pueblitas who will be obedient to a power superior to the Church—even in Mexico, that Paradise of padres. Gold will outweigh any scruples about the performance of the marriage ceremony, however suspicion! the circumstances under which the intending bride and bridegroom may prevent themselves at the altar. The lancer colonel is well aware of this.

But there are other points to be considered before he can proceed farther with the affair. His escort must not know too much. There are ten of them, all thorough cut-throats, and, as such, having a fellow-feeling for their commanding officer. Not one of them but has committed crime, and more than one stained his soul with murder. Nothing strange for Mexican soldiers under the regime of Santa Anna. Not rare even among their officers.

On parting with the main body Uraga selected his escort with an eye to sinister contingencies. They are the sort to assist in any deed of blood. If ordered to shoot or hang the captives they would obey with the eagerness of bloodhounds let loose from the leash, rather relishing it as cruel sport.

For all, he does not desire to entrust them with the secret of his present scheme.

They must not overhear the conversation which he intends holding with his captives; and to prevent this a plan easily suggests itself.

“Holla!” he hails a trooper with chevroned sleeves, in authority over the others. “Step this way, sergente.”

The sergeant advances, and saluting, awaits further speech from the colonel.

“Order boots and saddles!” directs the latter.

The order is issued; and the soldiers soon stand by their stirrups ready to mount, wondering what duty they are so unexpectedly to be sent upon.

“To horse!” commands the Colonel, vicariously through his non-commissioned officer. “Ride up the creek, and find if there is a pass leading out above. Take all the men with you; only leave Galvez to keep guard over the prisoners.”

The sergeant, having received these instructions, once more salutes. Then, returning to the group of lancers, at some distance off, gives the word “Mount!” The troopers, vaulting into their saddles, ride away from the ground, Galvez alone staying behind, who, being a “familiar” with his colonel, and more than once his participator in crimes of deepest dye, can be trusted to overhear anything.

The movement has not escaped the observation of the two men lying tied under the tree. They cannot divine its meaning, but neither do they augur well of it. Still worse, when Uraga, calling to Galvez to come to him, mutters some words in his ear.

Their apprehensions are increased when the sentry returns to them, and, unfastening the cord from the doctor’s ankles, raises him upon his feet, as if to remove him from the spot.

On being asked what it is for, Galvez does not condescend to give an answer, except to say in a gruff voice that he has orders to separate them.

Taking hold of the doctor’s arm, he conducts him to a distance of several hundred yards, and, once more laying him along the ground, stands over him as before in the attitude of a sentry. The action is suspicious, awe-inspiring—not more to Don Prospero than Miranda himself.

The latter is not left long to meditate upon it. Almost instantly he sees the place of his friend occupied by his enemy. Gil Uraga stands beside him.

There is an interval of silence, with only an interchange of glances; Don Valerian’s defiant, Uraga’s triumphant. But the expression of triumph on the part of the latter appears held in check, as if to wait some development that may either heighten or curb its display.

Uraga breaks silence—the first speech vouchsafed to his former commanding officer since making him a prisoner.

“Señor Miranda,” he says, “you will no doubt be wondering why I have ordered your fellow-captive to be taken apart from you. It will be explained by my saying that I have words for you I don’t wish overheard by anyone—not even by your ............