"I," said Luco, "will keep the door, so that no one inside can come out."
"That will do, my good fellow," answered Don Torribio. "Ah!" he added suddenly, as his eye fell on the poor girl extended on the floor, with the head of him she loved tied to her tresses; "here Eusebio! do not forget to place two or three bundles of straw under that sweet child. The dirty floor is a hard couch for her, and I want her to sleep sweetly."
He left the room, grinning like a demon.
He had scarcely got outside, before the corporal, without uttering a word, raised his sword, and, with one blow, cleft Eusebio to the chine. The wretch fell without a cry, like an ox that is slaughtered.
The second soldier who was present exhibited no signs of emotion.
"That was a pretty blow, Luco," said he, twisting his long gray moustache; "but are you not a little too precipitate?"
The corporal made him a sign to be silent, and, peering out of doors, listened attentively. A cry, low as the softest breath of the wind, met his ear.
"No Muñoz," he answered, "I am not too hasty; for there is the signal."
Then, putting the first finger of each hand into his mouth, he gave a whistle, so sharp and prolonged, that those present crouched against the walls, and trembled with fear, not knowing what new evil this portentous signal might bring upon them.
"¡Sangre de Cristo!" cried Luco, addressing the terrified arrieros, crouching on the floor, "Are you going to stay here and be massacred like stupid ostriches? Take courage caray! seize your weapons, and range yourselves by the side of those who have come to save you!"