good enlazador on a good horse can subdue him. Your worship was pleased to perform a very mad thing.&rsquo; </p> <p> &ldquo;I had nothing to say. I was surprised myself, and I felt a childish curiosity to see what would happen next. But the sergeant was thinking of the difficulty of controlling Gaspar Ruiz when the time for making an example would come. </p> <p> &ldquo;&lsquo;Or perhaps,&rsquo; the sergeant pursued, vexedly, &lsquo;we shall be obliged to shoot him down as he dashes out when the door is opened.&rsquo; He was going to give further vent to his anxieties as to the proper carrying out of the sentence; but he interrupted himself with a sudden exclamation, snatched a musket from a soldier, and stood watchful with his eyes fixed on the window.&rdquo; </p> <p> IV </p> <p> &ldquo;Gaspar Ruiz had clambered up on the sill, and sat down there with his feet against the thickness of the wall and his knees slightly bent. The window was not quite broad enough for the length of his legs. It appeared to my crestfallen perception that he meant to keep the window all to himself. He seemed to be taking up a comfortable position. Nobody inside dared to approach him now he could strike with his hands. </p> <p> &ldquo;&lsquo;Por Dios!&rsquo; I heard the sergeant muttering at my elbow, &lsquo;I shall shoot him through the head now, and get rid of that trouble. He is a condemned man.&rsquo; </p> <p> &ldquo;At that I looked at him angrily. &lsquo;The general has not confirmed the sentence,&rsquo; I said&mdash;though I knew well in my heart that these were but vain words. The sentence required no confirmation. &lsquo;You have no right to shoot him unless he tries to escape,&rsquo; I added, firmly. </p> <p> &ldquo;&lsquo;But sangre de Dios!&rsquo; the sergeant yelled out, bringing his musket up to the shoulder, &lsquo;he is escaping now. Look!&rsquo; </p> <p> &ldquo;But I, as if that Gaspar Ruiz had cast a spell upon me, struck the musket upward, and the bullet flew over the roofs somewhere. The sergeant dashed his arm to the ground and stared. He might have commanded the soldiers to fire, but he did not. And if he had he would not have been obeyed, I think, just then. </p> <p> &ldquo;With his feet against the thickness of the wall and his hairy hands grasping the iron bar, Gaspar sat still. It was an attitude. Nothing happened for a time. And suddenly it dawned upon us that he was straightening his bowed back and contracting his arms. His lips were twisted into a snarl. Next thing we perceived was that the bar of forged iron was being bent slowly by the mightiness of his pull. The sun was beating full upon his cramped, unquivering figure.