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The members of the court should be seated." The grim smile which accompanies his words shows that he means them in jest only as regards the manner of proceeding. For the earnestness of his intention there is that in his eyes a fierce, lurid light, which Roblez can read. In rejoinder the adjutant asks, "You are still resolved upon the death of the prisoners?" "Still resolved! Carramba!
"You intend setting them free?" The question is asked, not with any idea that this is Uraga's design, but to draw out the explanation. "Free of all cares in this world, whatever may be their troubles in the next." "They are to die, then?" "They are to die." "You mean only the men Don Valerian and the doctor?" "What a ruffian you are, Roblez!
Miranda, his ankles bound, is at first unable to follow, but with the sword-blade he quickly cut the thongs, and is on his feet free! In another instant he is chasing Uraga across the camp-ground, the latter running like a scared hound. Before he can be overtaken, the trampling of hoofs resound upon the grassy turf, and the returned lancers, with Roblez and the sentry, close around the prisoner.
As if this exclamatory phrase, sent hissing through his teeth too foul to bear translation were the name of a man, one at this moment appears in the doorway, who, after a gesture of permission to enter, steps inside the room. He is an officer in full uniform one whom we have met before, though not in military costume. It is Lieutenant Roblez, Uraga's adjutant, as also his confederate in crime.
A leathern belt, and apron of reddish-coloured sheepskin, tanned, completed the costume of an arriero of the humbler class the mozo, or assistant. But the change in the two other men the chief and him addressed as Roblez was of a far more striking kind.
Galvez has taken Don Prospero far apart. Roblez is inside the tent, though he thinks not of him; while the Indian damsel, who stands trembling by, is not worth a thought. Besides, he is now more than ever regardless of the result. "Don Valerian Miranda!" he exclaims, recovering breath after his chase across the camp-ground. "I take it your sister has told you what has passed between us.
"And anyone could pass out below?" "They could, Senor Coronel." "We require to observe caution, Roblez," says Uraga, addressing himself to the adjutant; "else we may have made our long journey for nothing. 'Twill never do to enter the cage and find the birds flown. How far is it to the point where the river runs below?" The question is put to the peon. "Cinco leguas, Senor; not less.
Besides, Roblez, though a man of undoubted courage, of the coarse, animal kind, has, neverthless, a certain moral dread of his commanding officer, and fears to offend him. He knows Gil Uraga to be one whose hostility, once provoked, will stop short at nothing, leave no means untried to take retribution this of a terrible kind.
He remembers his comrades slaughtered upon the sands of the Canadian, himself left buried alive. With a feeling almost jubilant natural, considering the circumstances, scarce reprehensible he takes his stand by the side of the mule which carries Colonel Uraga. At the same time Cully places himself beside that bestridden by Roblez. Both have their bowie-knives in hand, the blades bare.
At the same time he drew a gold watch from his vest pocket, and looked also at that. "We'll be just in the right time, Roblez," he said. "Six hours yet before sunset. That will get us out into the valley, and in the river road. We're not likely to meet any one after nightfall in these days of Indian alarms. Four more will bring us to Albuquerque, long after the sleepy townsfolk have gone to bed.
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