"Yes," replied Don Torribio; "but it comes too late."
And he ordered the vaqueros to surround Don José, and attack him. A couple of shots from the governor's pistol laid two of them in the dust; and a terrible combat began.
Don José, knowing all hope of safety to be gone, determined to sell his life dearly, and did wonders. An accomplished horseman, he parried the blows aimed at him, and struck fiercely into the men crowding upon him with savage vociferations. In the meantime, the thundering gallop of the approaching horsemen grew louder. Don Torribio saw it was time to make a finish, and shot the governor's horse through the head.
Don José came violently to the ground, but was up again in a moment, and aimed a blow at the renegade, which the latter avoided by a dexterous movement. Then the gallant old soldier put the muzzle of his pistol to his own forehead.
"A man like me," said he, "never surrenders to dogs like you; here, curs, quarrel over my body!"
With these words he blew his brains out.
Just then several shots were fired, and a troop of horsemen fell, like a whirlwind, upon the vaqueros. Don Estevan and Major Barnum led the assailants.
The conflict did not last long. Don Torribio gave a loud whistle, and the vaqueros went to the right-about, and, scattering in all directions, were soon lost sight of.
Seven or eight remained dead on the field.
"What is to be done?" said Major Barnum.