on the other side. I will remain here."

They were already among the foothills of the Almiqui Mountains, and had
just passed a low crest which, for the moment, hid them from their
pursuers. The ambush was so quickly arranged that, two minutes later
when these appeared, they saw nothing of it and heard only a rush of
horses' hoofs in the ravine below.

With a yell the Spanish cavalrymen put spurs to their steeds and dashed
down the declivity. The first two were allowed to pass. Then came a
double flash of flame from the bushes and one of the riders fell, while
another uttered the cry of a wounded man. Two more were killed before
the panic-stricken horsemen were borne beyond range. Those who
remained unhurt left the road and fled for their lives down the bed of
a little stream that crossed it at the foot of the hill. The wounded
man was despatched by del Concha where he lay, before Ridge could
interpose a word in his behalf.

"And why not?" asked the Cuban, as he coolly wiped his machete on the
grass. "Can the blood-debt that I owe them ever be paid? Are they not
adding to it every day? Even now, does not she who is dearest of all
the world to me lie wounded at their hands?"

"But, I thought you were in their service, and that they trusted you."

"So they do trust me, and to their sorrow," replied del Concha, with a
bitter laugh. "But there is no time for explanations. A precious life
hangs in the balance, and only instant action may save it. If you can
recover the horses, or even one of them, all may go well. If not,
there is little room for hope."