"Stop! One step further, and you are a dead man. I hold in my hands the life of two."
"And I of two others," a rough voice exclaimed; and a man, suddenly emerging from a thicket, bounded forward like a jaguar, and placed himself intrepidly by the missionary's side.
"Curumilla!" the latter exclaimed.
"Yes," the chief answered, "it is I. Courage! Our friends are coming up."
In fact a dull and continued sound could be heard rapidly increasing. The strangers had not yet paid attention to it, as they were so engaged by their discussion with the missionary. Still the situation was growing complicated. Father Seraphin saw that, so long as a pistol was not fired, he should remain almost master of the situation, certain, from Curumilla's words, as he was of seeing speedy help arrive. His resolution was at once formed: all he wanted was to gain time, and he attempted it.
"Come, gentlemen," he said, "you see that I am no longer alone: God has sent me a brave auxiliary; hence my position is no longer so desperate. Will you parley?"
"Parley!"
"Yes."
"Be quick."
"I will try to be so, as I presume, from the way in which you stopped me, you are salteadores. Well, look you. You have me almost in your power, or at least you think so. Remember that I am only a poor missionary, and that what I possess belongs to the unhappy. How much do you want for my ransom? Answer. I am ready to make any sacrifice compatible with my position."