“Senors,” the haciendado replied, “my respect and consideration and desire to serve you are as deep as for the noble Solano family under whose protection you are. Your safety and comfort are sacred to me. I will defend you from harm with my life. I am yours to command. My hacienda is yours, likewise all I possess. But this matter of this peon is entirely another matter. He is none of yours. He is _my_ peon, in _my_ debt, who has run away from _my_ hacienda. You will understand and forgive me, I trust. This is a mere matter of property. He is _my_ property.” Henry and Francis glanced at each other in mutual perplexity and indecision. It was the law of the land, as they thoroughly knew. “The Cruel Just One did remit my debt, as all here will witness,” the peon whispered. “It is true, the Cruel Justice remitted his debt,” Leoncia verified. The haciendado smiled and bowed low. “But the peon contracted with me,” he smiled. “And who is the Blind Brigand that his foolish law shall operate on my plantation and rob me of my rightful two hundred and fifty pesos?” “He’s right, Leoncia,” Henry admitted. “Then will I go back to the high Cordilleras,” the peon asserted. “Oh, you men of the Cruel Just One, take me back to the Cordilleras.” But the stern leader shook his head. “Here you were released. Our orders went no further. No further jurisdiction have we over you. We shall now bid farewell and depart.” “Hold on!” Francis cried, pulling out his check book and beginning to write. “Wait a moment. I must settle for this peon now. Next, before you depart, I have a favor to ask of you.” He passed the check to the haciendado, saying: “I have allowed ten pesos for the exchange.” The haciendado glanced at the check, folded it away in his pocket, and placed the end of the rope around the wretched creature’s neck in Francis’ hand. “The peon is now yours,” he said. Francis looked at the rope and laughed. “Behold! I now own a human chattel. Slave, you are mine, my property now, do you understand?” “Yes, Senor,” the peon muttered humbly. “It seems, when I became mad for the woman I gave up my freedom for, that God destined me always afterward to be the property of some man. The Cruel Just One is right. It is God’s punishment for mating outside my race.” “You made a slave of yourself for what the world has always considered the best of all causes, a woman,” Francis observed, cutting the thongs that bound the peon’s hands. “And so, I make a present of you to yourself.” So saying, he placed the neck-rope in the peon’s hand. “Henceforth, lead yourself, and put not that rope in any man’s hand.”