"I?"

"Yes, you."

"Who the deuce could have told you that nonsense?"

"It is not nonsense. Fray Antonio a.s.sured me that he leapt his horse over your body."

The Jaguar reflected for a moment.

"Well," he answered, "he told you the truth."

"What?" the American exclaimed as he gave a start of terror, "Are you dead?"

"Oh, oh! Make your mind easy," the young man answered with a laugh; "I am as good a living man as yourself."

"Are you quite sure of it?" the superst.i.tious American said dubiously.

"_Rayo de Dios!_ I am certain of it, though it is possible that Fray Antonio leaped his horse over my body, for I lay for several hours senseless on the battlefield."

"That is all right, then."

"Thanks; but what are you doing there?"

"As you see, I am on guard."

"Yes, but why are you so? Are there more of you inside?"

"There are about a dozen of us."

"All the better; and who are your comrades?"

The American looked at him for some moments fixedly, and then took his hand, which he squeezed.

"My friend," he said with emotion, "thank heaven, for it has shown you a great mercy this day."

"What do you mean?" the young man exclaimed, anxiously.

"I mean that those you confided to us are safe and sound, in spite of the dangers innumerable they incurred during the terrible day we have pa.s.sed through."

"Can it be true?" he said, laying his hand on his chest, to check the beating of his heart.

"I a.s.sure you."

"Then, they are both here?"

"Yes."

"Oh! I must see them!" he exclaimed, as he prepared to rush into the rancho.

"Wait a moment."

"Why so?" he asked in alarm.

"For two reasons: the first being that before you enter, I must warn them of your arrival."

"That is true; go, my friend, I will await you here."

"I have not yet told you the second reason."

"What do I care?"

"More than you fancy; do you not wish me to tell you the name of the man who protected and eventually saved Dona Carmela?"

"I do not understand you, my friend. I entrusted the guardianship of Tranquil and Dona Carmela to you."

"You did so."

"Then, was it not you who saved them?"

The American shook his head in denial.

"No," he said, "it was not I, I could only have died with them."

"But who saved them, then? Whoever the man may be, I swear----"

"This man," John Davis interrupted him, "is one of your dearest and most devoted friends."

"His name? My friend, tell me his name."

"Colonel Melendez."

"Oh! I could have sworn it," the young man said impetuously; "why cannot I thank him?"

"You will soon see him."

"How so?"

"At this moment he is busy seeking a safe retreat for the old hunter and his daughter. For the present we shall remain at this rancho, from which he will be able to keep the Mexican soldiers off; and so soon as he has found another shelter, he will himself come to tell us."

"Always kind and devoted! I shall never be able to pay my debt to him."

"Who knows?" the American said philosophically; "luck will, perhaps, turn for us, and then it will be our turn to protect our protectors of today."

"You are right, my friend; may Heaven grant that it is so; but how did it all happen?"

"The Colonel, who seemed, from what he said to me, to have foreboded the danger that Dona Carmela ran, arrived just at the moment, when attacked on all sides at once, and too weak to resist the enemies who overwhelmed us, we were preparing, as we had promised, to die at our post; you can guess the rest. By threats and entreaties, he drove back the soldiers who were attacking us: then, not satisfied with having freed us from our enemies, he desired to secure us against all danger, and accompanied us thus far, recommending us to wait for him here, which I believe we shall be wise in doing."

"Certainly, acting otherwise would be ungrateful. Go, now, my friend, I will wait for you."