"Hurrah! hurrah! my faithful fellows! hurrah for our country! forward! forward!"
His companions, in the sinister flashes of the lightning, caught occasional glimpses of the imposing shadow galloping before them, his horse bounding over every obstacle that came in his way. Suddenly electrified by this strange vision, they rushed wildly forward in pursuit of him, uttering cries resembling his own, across the inundated plain, through trees twisted and tortured by the powerful hand of the hurricane, which roared furiously. A mad ride, beyond the power of language to describe, then ensued. Don Tadeo, with his eyes flashing fire, felt himself fatally carried away by the furious delirium which compressed his temples like a vice. At intervals he turned sharply round, uttering inarticulate cries, and then, as suddenly, he lifted his horse with his spurs and his knees, and galloped forward in pursuit of some imaginary enemy.
The soldiers, terrified at this terrible crisis, of which they could not divine the cause, and filled with grief at seeing him in this unhappy state, rode after him without knowing in what way to restore him the reason which seemed to be abandoning him.
On approaching Valdivia, although still at some distance from it, they were surprised to see, at this advanced hour of the night, innumerable lights shining in the direction of the city. Don Gregorio, Don Tadeos most faithful friend, was overpowered with grief at beholding him in such a dreadful state, and tried every means to restore to him that reason which appeared every moment to be about to leave him perhaps for ever.
All at once an idea struck him, and Don Gregorio urged his horse forward, pricking it with point of his dagger to increase its speed. The noble animal lowered its head, snorted loudly, and darted off like an arrow. After a few minutes of this wild course, Don Gregorio turned his horse short round upon its hind quarters, and without relaxing his speed, retraced his steps like a whirlwind. He and Don Tadeo were now galloping in a contrary direction, and must inevitably cross or clash. As they met, Don Gregorio seized the curb rein of his friend's horse with a grasp of iron, and giving it a sudden check, stopped it short.
"Don Tadeo de León!" Don Gregorio cried; "have you forgotten Doña Rosario, your daughter?"
At the name of his daughter, a convulsive trembling ran over Don Tadeos limbs.
"My daughter!" he cried in a piercing tone, "oh I restore me my daughter!"
Suddenly a cadaverous paleness covered his countenance, his eyes closed, the reins dropped from his hands, and he sank backwards. But, quick as thought, his friend had sprung to the earth, and caught him in his arms; Don Tadeo had fainted.
"He is saved!" said Don Gregorio.