Las Casas and the whole of the small band of warriors drew around as she poured forth her lamentable tale, with groans and sighs and streaming tears, and the countenances of the two leaders glowed with deepening indignation as they listened. At length Montoro lifted himself up with flashing eyes, and turning to his friend exclaimed passionately-- "It seems that we Spaniards are bent on accumulating sins upon our heads, until the measure of Heaven's wrath shall be attained. Give me your permission that I leave you now on the instant, and hasten to avert at any rate this threatened iniquity." "If it be possible, with the grace of God," murmured Las Casas; but Montoro had hastened away with the Indian woman before the words were uttered, and was already on his road to the Governor's house. The others followed. "What! returned, my very esteemed friend Diego?" exclaimed the laughing voice of Juan de Cabrera from the verandah of the Governor's residence as the other approached. Montoro sprang forward more quickly. "Well met, Cabrera," he cried, in tones so stern that their ordinary melody was lost; "well met, for thou canst tell me where I may most wisely seek the Governor." "That can I," was the reply more seriously, "or rather, I can tell thee where thou mayest seek him and find him; but as to the wisdom of the search, verily that is another matter. For my part, I am thankful to maintain my present distance between myself and him just now. And if you are prudent you will remain with me, and ask no further questions." Montoro strode forward still more hastily, and his face paled with emotion as he asked huskily-- "Toy not with me, Juan. Thou canst not surely mean that yon diabolical act of which this woman speaks is already in progress?" Cabrera bowed, murmuring at the same time-- "Ah! then thou hast heard. I would have spared thee." Montoro shook himself wrathfully. "Exert thyself to spare the deeds, not the hearing of them after. Where is the spot that is to be made foul for ever by this crime?" Cabrera raised his hand, and pointed. "But, Diego, stay with me. Spare thyself a needless agony. Wert thou eloquent as the archangel Gabriel himself thou wouldst avail nought to turn Velasquez from his present purpose." Diego was already going off to the place indicated, but he turned back a moment. "I am not purposing to use my words on Velasquez, but on his prisoner. This poor creature tells me that Hatuey is offered life on one condition. It shall be my office as a humble suppliant to implore him to accept it." So saying, with a sign to the weeping Indian woman, he darted off with a fiery speed that gave the poor creature at least the comfort of feeling that she had one with her who sympathized with her hapless misery. They were not long in reaching their destination.