"Here are the enemy," said the stranger in deep and low tones; "we must charge and ride over them, or die."
The five men formed in line, and rushed like a thunderbolt upon the newcomers, at whom they discharged their pistols point-blank, and then cut their way with the sword.
"¡Caray!" screamed Pablito, in a fury—for it was he who commanded the troop—"My prisoner is escaping."
Spurring his horse, he dashed at Don Fernando. But the latter, without drawing bridle, fired a pistol; and the vaquero's horse, struck by a ball in the forehead, rolled to the ground, bearing his rider with him.
Pablito rose, half killed by the fall. The men who had attacked him so briskly had disappeared.
"Never mind; I shall find them again," he cried.
In the meantime, the fugitives had reached the bank of the river, and found a boat waiting for them.
"We must part here," said the stranger, taking off his mask.
"Estevan!" cried Don Fernando.
"Myself," replied the mayor domo. "This boat will take you to the Hacienda del Cormillo. Go there without delay, and," he added, as he placed in his hands a paper folded into four, "read this attentively; perhaps you will have to come to the rescue in your turn."