"Only a little commission," interrupted Zapote; "and if you knew what it is--"

"Oh, I have no intention of claiming my third in the reward. I don't care to know what it is."

"But you shall know, for all that," replied Zapote, apparently carried away by an irresistible desire of giving his confidence. "Among friends--for we are so at present--there should be no concealment."

"Well, then, what is it?" inquired the Colonel.

"It is the will of a rich uncle in favour of a nephew who believed himself disinherited, and to whom we are now taking it. You may fancy whether we have just grounds for expecting a good perquisite."

"Are you sure that the will is not a false one?" inquired the Colonel, not without suspicions as to the veracity of Zapote.

"Neither of us knows how to read," replied the ex-guerillero, with an air of affected innocence.

"But take my word for it, cavallero," he hastily added, "we had better get out of this place as quickly as we can. We have already lost too much time."

"But my horse," objected the Colonel, "what's to be done with him?"

"Oh, you have a horse? Well, then, the best way is to leave him behind: he will only embarra.s.s you."

"He would certainly do so," interrupted the messenger, "if he was like a horse I once knew. Ah, that was a devil of an animal! If you had only heard--"

The man was alluding to a horse he had once seen in the stables of his master, Don Mariano de Silva, and which was no other than Roncador himself. He was about to recount the peculiarities of this famous steed--which would no doubt have led to a recognition between himself and Don Rafael--when his speech was interrupted by voices heard in different directions, as if men were approaching the spot from different sides.

Both Don Rafael and the messenger interrogated with anxious regard the countenance of Zapote.

"_Carrambo_!" exclaimed the latter, "it may be more serious than I thought."

The voices had now broken forth into shouts and cries--as if uttered by men engaged in a chase; and the sounds expressed a sort of vengeful resolve--on the part of those who uttered them--not to show mercy or give quarter.

El Zapote looked for some moments with fixed gaze upon the royalist fugitive, who with the felt hat of an insurgent, the jacket of an infantry soldier, and the pantaloons of a dragoon officer, presented a somewhat motley appearance.

"You are a man who has just dropped down from a tree," said he. "I will not deny that fact; but if you are the only one about here, I should say there is a royalist in this wood, that these fellows are about to hunt to death."

"On my side I shall be frank with you," answered Don Rafael. "You have guessed rightly: I am in the King's cause."

"These shouts," continued Zapote, "the meaning of which I understand full well, denote that there is a royalist hidden in these woods, who is to be taken dead or alive. Have the men who are pursuing you ever seen you?"

"I killed two of their number yesterday evening. There were others who, no doubt, saw me."

"Then there is no hope of my being able to pa.s.s you off as an ordinary prisoner, like my companion here, who is neither royalist nor insurgent."

"It is very doubtful, to say the least," remarked Don Rafael, in a desponding tone.

"Altogether impossible; but I can promise you one thing, however: that we shall not betray you, should we fall in with these pursuers.

Moreover, I shall endeavour to throw them off your scent: for I am beginning to tire of this brigand life of theirs. On one condition, how ever."

"Name it!" said the Colonel.

"That you will permit us to part company with you. I can do nothing to save you--you know it--while you may only ruin us, without any profit to yourself. On the other hand your fate has become in a manner linked with ours; and to abandon you in the midst of danger would be a baseness for which I could never pardon myself."

There was in the words of Zapote an accent of loyalty, which moved the Colonel to admiration, in spite of himself.

"Have no care for me," resolutely rejoined Don Rafael. "Go which way you please without me; and I hope," he added with a smile, "that you will reach that nephew you speak of, and safely deliver to him his uncle's will!"

"After all, _amigo_," he continued in a more serious tone, "I have but little reason to care for life more than yourself. A little sooner or a little later, what matters it? Only," added he, smiling, "I should not exactly fancy to be hanged."

"Thanks for your permission that we should part from you," said Zapote; "but, Senor Cavallero, a word before you go. If you take my advice, you will climb back into that tree where no one will suspect your presence."

"No," interrupted Don Rafael. "Up there I should be as a jaguar pursued by hounds--without the power to defend myself; and I am like the Indians, I wish, on entering the other world, to send as many enemies before me as possible."

"Well, then, do better still--make towards the river; keep due south from this place; and, on reaching the banks of the Ostuta, you will see a vast thicket of bamboos--in which my comrade and myself have just found a refuge, and where we might have remained safe from enemies till the day of judgment, had we not to go forward upon our errand. If you can only succeed in reaching the bamboos, you are saved."

Saying this El Zapote, followed by his companion, turned his face northward, and striking off into the thicket but were soon lost to Don Rafael's sight.

CHAPTER SIXTY ONE.

THE FUGITIVES IN DANGER.

El Zapote and his confrere, the messenger, after making a wide detour through the forest, came out on the Huaj.a.pam road. Their intention was to journey on to Huaj.a.pam--where they supposed the royalist army still held the place in siege, and where they expected to find Colonel Tres-Villas, to whom the messenger had been sent. Little did either the ex-guerillero or his companion suspect that it was the colonel himself from whom they had just parted.

"By my faith!" remarked the messenger, as they journeyed along, "it's a pity now that we did not ask that gentleman his name. It is likely enough that he is some grand officer belonging to the royalist army."

"Bah!" replied Zapote. "What good would it be to us to know his name?

He's a lost man, I fear. It matters little, therefore, what name he carries."

"_Quien sabe_?" doubtingly rejoined the messenger.

"I am more vexed," continued Zapote, "that we were not able to do anything for him. It can't be helped, however; and just now, let me tell you, my brave Gaspar, that we have got to look out for ourselves.

We are yet far from being out of danger."

The two men pursued their route, gliding silently and cautiously under the shadow of the underwood.

Scarce ten minutes had elapsed when they again heard the voices of those who were beating the wood in search of the hiding-place of Don Rafael.

Both stepped behind a screen of bushes and listened. In the midst of a profound silence, they heard the crackling of branches; and the moment after a man appeared at a short distance from where they stood. He was advancing with stealthy step, carbine in hand, and almost at the same instant two others made their appearance, coming up behind him, and moving forward with like caution.

All three were stealthily gliding from tree to tree--making a temporary rampart of the trunks, as they reconnoitred the ground before them.

One of these men was recognised by Zapote as an old comrade.

"Eh, Perico!" cried he, speaking loud enough to be heard by the men.

"Hola! Who calls me?" responded Perico.

"I--Juan el Zapote."

"Zapote! how is it that you are here? Where did you come from?"