"The villain is dead," the general exclaimed, furiously.
"You are perfectly well aware of the contrary," Señor Valentine answered, "and to remove any doubts you may still happen to have, I will give you the proof. Don Martial," he said aloud, "come in, pray, and tell General Guerrero yourself that you are not dead."
"Oh!" the general muttered furiously, "this man is a demon."
At this moment the door opened, and a new personage entered the room.
[CHAPTER XIX.]
ASSISTANCE.
The man who now entered the hall of mirrors was dressed like the riders who promenade at the Bucareli, and gallop at carriage doors—that is to say, in trousers with silk stripes down the sides, and a broad-brimmed hat decorated with a double gold string and tassels.
He walked gracefully up to Don Sebastian, still holding his hat in his right hand, bowed to him with that exquisite grace of which the Mexicans alone seem to have the privilege, and thrusting his hand into his side, he said, with an accent of cutting sarcasm, and in a harsh, metallic voice—
"Do you recognize me, Don Sebastian, and do you believe that I am really alive, and that it is not the ghost of Martial the Tigrero which has come from the grave to address you?"