A cry from Cuchillo—a cry of alarm, here interrupted the Duke de Armada.
“To arms! To arms! yonder come the Indians!” cried he.
Fabian, Bois-Rose, and Pepé rushed to seize their rifles.
Cuchillo took advantage of this short instant, and sprang towards Don Antonio. The latter with his neck stretched forward, was also examining the wide extent of the plain, when Cuchillo twice plunged the poignard into his throat.
The unfortunate Mediana fell to the ground, vomiting forth torrents of blood.
A smile relaxed Cuchillo’s lips: Don Antonio had carried out of the world the secret which he dreaded.