The thunder peals clashed with frightful force, a whirlwind filled the hall, after dashing in a window, and extinguished all the lights; the assembly crossed themselves with terror.
At that moment, the bell placed at the gate of the hacienda resounded with a convulsive noise, and a voice, which had nothing human in it, cried twice distinctly,—
"Help! help!"
"Sangre de Cristo!" Don Ramón cried, as he rushed out of the hall, "somebody is being murdered on the plain."
Two pistol shots resounded at almost the same moment, a cry of agony rung through the air, and all relapsed into sinister darkness.
All at once, a pale flash of lightning furrowed the obscurity, the thunder burst with a horrible crash, and Don Ramón reappeared in the hall, bearing a fainting man in his arms.
The stranger was placed in a seat, and all crowded round him.
There was nothing extraordinary in either the countenance or the appearance of this man, and yet, on perceiving him, Rafaël, the eldest son of Don Ramón, could not repress a gesture of terror, and his face became lividly pale.
"O!" he murmured, in a low voice, "it is the juez de letras!"
It was, indeed, the worthy judge, whom we saw leave Hermosillo with such a brilliant equipage.