"Five—four!"
And Toro was hailed the winner.
"Prisoner, I give you two minutes to prepare."
"Brigand, I am prepared. Such sins as I have committed, I have repented of, so do your worst; but rest assured that vengeance will some day overtake you. To Heaven I commend my soul!"
With as much composure as if he had been practising at an inanimate target, Toro raised his gun, and counted—
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
At the word three, he pulled the trigger. The report echoed from rock to rock, and the head and body of poor Pike fell forward, as far as the ropes that secured him to the tree would permit.
He was dead, the bullet having penetrated the brain.