"You do not hold me yet, wretched traitor! If I cannot conquer, I can die, weapon in hand, like a soldier."
"No, your hour has struck, I tell you; you are ours, you shall die, but not the death of a soldier; you shall be executed by our justice!"
"If that be the case," the General yelled, brandishing his sword, "come and take me!"
Don Tadeo did not deign a reply; he gave a signal, and a lasso whizzed through the air, launched by an invisible hand, and fell round the General's shoulders. Astonished by this unexpected attack, before he could make the least possible resistance, he received a terrific shock, lost his stirrups, was pulled from his horse, and dragged amongst the insurgents. The astounded General, half mad with rage and shame, exhausted himself in vain efforts; nearly strangled by the lasso which flayed his neck, his face assumed a purple tint; his eyes, injected with blood, seemed starting from their sockets, and a white foam flowed from the corners of his discoloured lips. Don Tadeo contemplated him for a moment with a mixture of pity and triumph.
"Free him from that slipknot," he said. "Secure his person, but treat him with respect."
The soldiers, terrified at this prompt capture, which they had not at all expected, stood downcast and silent; in their stupor forgetting even the use of their arms. Don Tadeo turned towards them:
"Surrender," he shouted, "surrender! the man who misled you is in our power; your lives shall be spared."
The soldiers consulted each other for an instant with their eyes; and then, as if by a spontaneous movement, they threw down their muskets, crying aloud:
"Chili! Chili! liberty! liberty!"
"That is well!" said Don Tadeo; "leave the city, encamp at the distance of a mile, and await the orders which shall soon be transmitted to you."