"How?"

"Surround the place. It's half surrounded already. We've only got to 'filade' the other half, and they'll be complete caged."

There was sense in the sergeant's suggestion. I should at once have acceded to it, but for the thought--I need not say what. Time was the enemy I most dreaded. Just then an hour seemed eternity!

"No," I rejoined, "we must attack them at once. If we leave them undisturbed till the morning, then our pursuit would be to no purpose.

These ladies--"

"I kin understan you, capten. I didn't mean to leave it till the mornin'. Let's pounce upon 'em now--them that's outside yonder! Lick that lot up first, and then summon the others to surrender. Seein'

their comrades taken, and theirselves surrounded--with ne'er a chance of escapin'--they'll be only too glad to give up the weemen--ay, without rufflin' a hair o' their heads. Besides," continued he, pointing to the summit of Ixticihuatl, seen distinctly from the spot, "talkin' o'

mornin', look yonder, capten!"

I directed my glance upwards. A roseate tint appeared upon the snow.

It was the first kiss of the Aurora. Though still night where we lay, there were signs of morn upon the summit of the mountain. In less than twenty minutes there would be daylight around us!

The thought decided me to act according to the suggestion of the sergeant.

My commands, imparted in a low tone to the comrades that crouched behind me, were followed by a quick rush across the open ground, and the almost instantaneous capture of the fellows around the fire.

It might have been done without alarming their comrades inside, but for one of them discharging his carbine as we came up.

For him it proved an imprudent act. It was the last shot he ever fired.

It hurt no one; but he himself dropped dead the instant after, riddled by the bullets of our revolvers.

The rest surrendered without further show of fight; and in a minute more were our prisoners.

The shots, of course, carried the surprise inside; but instead of the door being thrown open, we saw that it was quickly barricaded!

We discovered this on attempting to force it open, and also that it had been contrived with an eye to such contingency!

While occupied in front of it we were saluted with a volley from above; while the besieged brigands were seen over the parapet of the azotea.

Before we could answer the fire, their heads were "ducked;" and we were compelled to stand with guns undischarged, or send our shots idly into the air.

I felt that we were foiled. My comrades shared the thought. A rifleman lay, wounded, among our feet. A second had dropped upon his knees; while three or four others had been scathed by scattering shots.

We stood in a position completely exposed. To hack down the door would take time. Before it could be done, we might look for a second discharge from the housetop, with an uneven chance of returning it: for we now saw that the parapet was _crenelled_; rudely, it is true, but sufficient for the protection of its defenders.

We felt loth to retreat. There seemed a chance to shelter ourselves close to the wall; and some, yielding to instinct, had done so. But several heavy blocks of stone were hurled down from above--proving the position untenable.

There was no help for it but retreat to the cover of the trees; and this we did, taking our crippled comrades along with us.

We had lost but little time. The interval of indecision occupied only a few seconds; and, before the bandits had got their carbines ready for a fresh fusilade, we were safely sheltered against such "sharpshooters" as they.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

A SCOUNDREL SAFELY SCREENED.

Though for the time disconcerted, we had no thought of retreating. The unsuccessful a.s.sault but rendered my men more determined--besides still further embittering them against the despised foe.

Fortunately the wounds received by their comrades were not mortal, though it needed not this to provoke their vengeance. The situation of the two captives--now thoroughly comprehended by every one--was sufficient to check all thoughts of retiring from the strife--even had the enemy far outnumbered us.

As it was, we still believed that we had them in the trap, and it was only a question of time and strategy to bring the affair to a termination.

By withdrawing to the trees we had obtained a more advantageous position. It gave us a better chance of aiming at any object on the azotea; and as the sky was each instant becoming clearer, we could distinguish the loopholes along the parapet.

They were but rude holes--the ragged interstices between the logs--but good enough for the purpose for which they had evidently been left in the fabrication of the dwelling.

We expected to see faces behind them, or something we might fire at. We saw nothing--not so much as a hand!

The brigands had by this time discovered who were their a.s.sailants, and no doubt knew something of the skill of the American rifleman.

Mistrusting it, they were keeping close--not even daring to look through the loopholes.

They were not far astray in their tactics--if such they were. Not a clear spot on the parapet that was not watched with eager eyes, and fingers ready to press upon the trigger.

For full five minutes did the inaction continue--five minutes that seemed fifty!

To me the delay was intolerable as some slow subtle torture. I was scheming how to put an end to it, when, to my astonishment, I saw a form rising above the parapet. It was that of a tall man, whose dark _silhouette_ became outlined against the lighter background of the sky.

At a glance I recognised _Carrasco_!

I can scarcely tell what restrained me from sending a bullet through his body. Perhaps surprise at the unexpected apparition?

And my followers seemed to be influenced by a like feeling; since, along their whole line, not a trigger was touched!

The robber-chief must have calculated upon something of the kind, else he would not have so audaciously exposed himself.

He had also made a nice reckoning of the limits to which our surprise could be trusted. The time was short enough; but before we had recovered from it, we saw a white curtain drawn hastily before him, that concealed from our sight more than half of his person!

"A flag of truce!" thought we, as we lowered the muzzles of our guns.

In another instant we were undeceived--so far as to its being a flag.

It was the white drapery of a woman's dress--with a woman inside it!

Despite the ambiguous light of the struggling dawn, I could see who the woman was.

Her appearance--quick and instantaneous--was evidently an act of compulsion--as if Carrasco had forced her into the position. I fancied I had seen his arm outstretched, as he hastily drew her in front of him.

Our rifles were instantly dropped to the "trail," and my comrades uttered a simultaneous cry of "Shame!"

It was enough to challenge their indignation. A young and beautiful woman thus basely used for the shielding of a bandit's body!

Many of them shivered at the thought of the murder they had been so near committing.

I experienced an emotion peculiar to myself--unknown to them--more painful than that they had been called upon to feel! since I knew the white shield to be Mercedes!

There was now enough of light to enable me to distinguish her features.

It needed not this. The undulating outlines of her head, neck, and shoulders, like a cameo cut against the sky--were easily identified.