"It is a sad story, señora, but it will not take long to tell. The Spaniards pretended he was stirring up our people to revolt; they waited for him in the passes, and shot him down like a dog."
"Did you see him fall?"
The fellow's eyes flashed with savage rage. "Had I been there," he cried, "not a soldier of them all would have returned to his quarters! But they shall yet pay for it, señora. My people are mad to rise. Only say the word, and send the son of the dead man to ride at their head, and Lima shall be in flames to-morrow."
My mother made a gesture of dissent.
"Don Eduardo liked not cruelty," she exclaimed; "and it would be but a poor revenge to slay the innocent. But Juan shall take his father's place, and work for his country's freedom. When the time comes to strike he shall be ready."
"Before the time comes he will have disappeared," cried the mountaineer, with a harsh laugh. "Do you think Don Eduardo's son will be allowed to live? Accidents, señora, are common in Peru!"
"It is true," remarked José; "Juan will never be out of danger."
"But the country is not ready for revolt, and only harm can come from a rising now. Should the Indians leave their mountain homes, the trained soldiers will annihilate them."
"But Juan must be saved!"
"Yes," assented my mother; "we must save Juan to take his father's place."