"I don't possess a single valuable except this," said I, producing the silver key, "and that I must not part with." On seeing the key the fellow's manner changed instantly. "How did you get that?" he asked. "Are you one of us?" The question could hardly be considered a compliment, but it assured me both of safety and of good treatment. "If you belong to the Order of the Silver Key," I remarked, "and recognize the authority of Raymon Sorillo, all is well. He is my friend, and will give me shelter." "The chief is in the mountains, senor, and not far off. I will get help, and take you to him. Meanwhile, eat a little coca; it will keep up your strength. I shall not be long gone." "Thanks," said I, taking some of the coca, and chuckling to myself at this unexpected stroke of good fortune. The fellow was as good as his word. He returned shortly with three Indians, armed like himself, and dressed in the same grotesque way. They were all sturdy fellows, and two of them, raising me gently from the ground, carried me in their arms with the greatest ease. Every step took me farther from the main track, and into a wilder part of the mountains, till at last my bearers stopped in a romantic ravine. There were several huts dotted about in an irregular ring, but most of the men were in the open, seated round a blazing fire. Three-fourths of the band were pure Indians, some were mulattoes, while a few were Spaniards of the lowest type. They looked what they were, bandits and outlaws, and I must say that my acquaintance of the morning was not the most villainous of them. They formed a striking company, quite in keeping with the gloomy grandeur of their home, shut in on every side by overhanging rocks and towering mountains. "Who is that?" suddenly roared a deep voice, and I saw the gigantic leader stride from the ring of men. Approaching us, he looked me full in the face. "A stranger?" cried he. "Why have you brought him here?" "I must have changed much since we last met," I interposed. "But if you don't remember me, you will doubtless remember the present you gave me," and I showed him the silver key. He looked at me again, and this time with a gleam of recognition. "I know you now!" he cried.--"Make way there. Room for an honoured guest--room for the son of Don Eduardo!" The name carried no meaning to the Spanish brigands; but the Indians received it with a great shout, for they knew how greatly my father had suffered in his efforts to make their lives easier. They would have pressed round me to touch my hand, but the chief waved them back, saying I wanted food and rest. They made a space beside the fire, and Sorillo himself attended to my injuries. "No bones broken," said he, after making an examination with as much skill as a surgeon. "We have only to reduce this swelling of the ankle. You can make yourself comfortable for a fortnight, at least. Now you must have some food, and then we'll talk."