“You, too, speak with God’s voice this day, regenerate one,” he approved.
But Francis, who had been scribbling hurriedly in his check book, handed a check, still wet with the ink, to the mestiza.
“I, too, speak,” he said. “Let not the man die the dog’s death he deserves, proven treacherous hound that he is.”
The mestiza read the check aloud.
“It is not necessary to explain,” the Blind Brigand shut Francis off. “I am a creature of reason, and have not lived always in the Cordilleras. I was trained in business in Barcelona. I know the Chemical National Bank of New York, and through my agents have had dealings with it aforetime. The sum is for ten thousand dollars gold. This man who writes it has told the truth already this day. The check is good. Further, I know he will not stop payment. This man who thus pays the ransom of a foe is one of three things: a very good man; a fool; or a very rich man. Tell me, O Man, is there a woman wonderful?”
And Francis, not daring to glance to right or left, at Leoncia or Henry, but gazing straight before him on the Blind Brigand’s face, answered because he felt he must so answer:
“Yes, O Cruel Just One, there is a woman wonderful.”
CHAPTER XII
At the precise spot where they had been first blindfolded by the sackcloth men, the cavalcade halted. It was composed of a number of the sackcloth men; of Leoncia, Henry, and Francis, blindfolded and mounted on mules; and of the peon, blindfolded and on foot. Similarly escorted, the haciendados, and the Jefe and Torres with their gendarmes, had preceded by half an hour.
At permission given by the stern-faced leader, the captives, about to be released, removed their blindfolds.