"True--there is a letter here bearing that address. I found it upon the
road: you are welcome to it, senor."
As he said this, he handed me the commissary's order, still retaining
the other documents.
"There was an enclosure. I perceive you have it in your hand. I beg
you will make me equally welcome to that."
"Oh! a note signed Ramon de Vargas? It was an enclosure?"
"Precisely so; and of course goes along with the letter."
"Oh, certainly; here it is, senor."
"There is still another little document in your possession--a safeguard
from the American commander granted to a certain lady. It is not yours,
Senor Ijurra! I beg you will deliver it to me. I wish to return it to
the lady to whom it belongs."
This was the bitterest pill I had yet presented to him. He glanced
hastily first to the right and then to the left, as if desirous of
making escape. He would fain have done so, but I kept him under my eye,
and he saw that my hand was ready.
"Certainly there is a safeguard," replied he, after a pause, and with a
feigned attempt at laughter. "'Tis a worthless document to me; 'tis at
your service, sir captain;" and as he handed me the paper, he
accompanied the act with another sorry cachinnation.
I folded the precious documents, and thrust all three under the breast
of my coat; then placing myself in fighting attitude, I cried out to my
adversary to "draw and defend" himself.
I had already noticed that he wore a sword, and, like myself, it
appeared to be the only weapon he carried. I saw no pistols upon his
person. I had none myself--nothing save a light cut-and-thrust sword.
It was far slighter than the sabre of my antagonist, but it was a weapon
that had seen service in my hands, and I had perfect confidence in it.
I had no fear for the result against so cowardly an adversary; I was not
awed, either by his heavier blade, or the superior size of his person.
To my astonishment, he hesitated to unsheath his sword!
"You _must_ draw," I shouted with emphasis. "You or I have now to die.
If you do not defend yourself, I shall run you through the body.
Coward! would you have me kill you with your blade in its sheath?"
Even the taunt did not nerve him. Never saw I complete a poltroon. His
white lips trembled, his eyes rolled wildly from side to side, seeking
an opportunity to escape. I am certain that could he have hoped to get
clear, he would at that crisis have turned and run.
All at once, and to my surprise, the coward appeared smitten with
courage; and, grasping the hilt of his sabre, he drew the blade ringing
from its scabbard, with all the energy of a determined man! His
reluctance to fight seemed suddenly to have forsaken him. Had I
mistaken my man? or was it despair that was nerving his arm?
His cowed look had disappeared: his eyes flashed with fury and
vengeance; his teeth gritted together; and a fierce _carajo_ hissed from
his lips.
Our blades met--the sparks crackled along the creasing steel, and the
combat began.
Fortunate for me, that, in avoiding the first lunge of my antagonist, I
had to turn half round: fortunately I turned so soon, else I should
never have left that glade alive.
As I faced in the new direction, I saw two men running towards us, sword
in hand. A single glance told me they were guerrilleros. They were
already within ten paces of the spot, and must have been seen long
before by Ijurra.
This was the key to his altered demeanour. Their approach it was that
had inspired him with courage to begin the fight--for he had calculated
the time when they should be able to get up, and assail me from behind.
"_Hola_!" shouted he, seeing that I had discovered them--"_Hola! El
Zorro_--_Jose! anda! anda! Mueran los Yankies! at muerte con el
picaro_!"
For the first time, I felt myself in danger. Three swords to one was
awkward odds; and the red giant, with a companion nearly as large as
himself, would no doubt prove very different antagonists from the
poltroon with whom I was engaged.
Yes, I was conscious of danger, and might have retreated, had I deemed
such a course possible; but my horse was too far off, and the new-comers
were directly in the path I should have to take to reach him. I could
not hope to escape on foot; I well knew that these men run as lightly as
Indians, for we had often proved their capacity in that accomplishment.
They were already _too_ near. I should be overtaken, struck down,
pierced, with my back to the foe.
I had no time to reflect--just enough to leap back a pace or two, so as
to bring all three of them in front of me, when I found my sword
clashing against their blades, and parrying their blows one after the
other.
I can describe the unequal combat no farther. It was a confused medley
of cut and thrust, in which I both gave wounds and received them. I was
wounded in several places, and felt the warm blood running under my
clothes and over my face.