"Listen, Jose. There lies the fiend of a Yankee. He is in my power at last. He has baffled me, ruined me, but now I have him! Yes, he can't get away! Ha! ha! I feel merry. Jose, he is my deadliest enemy; he is your enemy, too, the enemy of our glorious country. I hate him--so must you." "I do!" "Then listen. I want to take this knife, this nice, sharp knife that I have been grinding for him. Ha! ha! Santa Maria, how sharp it is! And I will put this money, all this money, into your hands and you will turn away so as not to see. And I will take this knife in my hand so. And I will creep over toward that fellow----" "And kill him?" "Listen, Jose. You spoil it. He'll scream. He'll turn pale and tremble like the coward he is. But he can't get away, Jose, he can't get away! I've got him, Jose! And I'll unbutton his jacket, that hated Yankee uniform. And I'll take this knife and I'll put it right close to his soft, white skin. Then I will press down--down! And you'll hear him scream as it goes in; he'll twist about and shriek, but I will pin him to the floor. And then he will lie there, Jose, and we can watch him die. Ha, Madre di dios, how I hate him!" The Spaniard's rage had been such that his face grew fairly purple. And he snatched up the knife and started forward toward the cadet. "How I hate him!" he panted again. What were the feelings of poor Clif may be imagined; he was perfectly helpless and could only lie still and gaze into the eyes of his deadly foe. But there was some one else to stop Ignacio. The sergeant caught him by the arm. "So, no!" he cried. "Stop." "What!" panted Ignacio. "Why?" "They would punish me." "But they need not know?" "The others will tell." "Nonsense." "But they will." "What? Cannot a knife kill more than one man. Carramba, I will kill all five." "But I was ordered to deliver them alive." Ignacio was nearly frenzied at those objections. "Jose" he yelled, "you are mad. We can fix it. I will fix it with Blanco. Say they got loose, chewed the ropes, and attacked us. I will swear they did, swear it by all the saints. And I hate that Yankee so, Jose, that I would cut my own flesh to make the story seem more probable. I will say we had a desperate battle--tell them how you saved my life. And you will be promoted. Blanco will believe me, Jose." But the Spanish soldier shook his head dubiously. "I dare not," he said. "The captain's last words were to deliver them safely." "But think of the money, Jose! Think of the money!" Ignacio fairly ground his teeth with rage over the delay; he was like a wild man. "Por dios," he cried, "how can you hesitate? It is the chance of your lifetime--of your lifetime!" The five unfortunate prisoners had not all of them understood those words, but they had no doubt of their meaning. And they lay watching Ignacio feverishly.