And so did we find it. The bandits had gone off; and, O God, they had again carried _their captives along with them_! There was no mystery about their disappearance. The mode by which they had made escape--as well as the way taken--was before our eyes the instant we entered the hut. There was another doorway at the back--with a door upon it, standing slightly ajar. Hastening across the floor, and drawing it wide open, I looked out. At a glance everything was accounted for. A swing bridge (_puente-hamaca_), constructed of _llianas_, with sticks laid across, extended over the chasm. One end was attached to the door post; the other to a tree standing out from the opposite cliff. At its farther extremity were two men, engaged as if hammering upon an anvil. But instead of hammers their tools were _machetes_; and I saw they were hacking at the suspenders of the bridge. They succeeded in completing their task--in spite of the shots fired to prevent them. It was the last act of their lives. Both went headlong into the abyss below; but along with their bodies, went the bridge they had been so eager in destroying! Mingling with their last cries came a peal of laughter from the opposite side of the chasm. It would have sounded fiendish enough without this. It was from the throat of Torreano Carrasco! I saw him standing upon the cliff--near the point of a projecting rock. He was not using it as a screen. He was sheltered as before. Mercedes was still in front of him. His arm was around her waist. He was holding her in a hug! Near at hand was her sister Dolores--shielding a second of the ruffians in a similar manner! "_Hola_!" cried the robber-chief, intentionally restraining his laughter, and speaking in a tone of loud exultation. "_Hola! mio amigo_! Very clever of you to have made your way into my mountain mansion? And so quick you've been about opening the door? For all that, you see you are too late. Never mind. You can make your morning call upon some other occasion; when perhaps you may find me at home. Meanwhile I have some business with this lady--the Dona Mercedes Villa-Senor--that will carry us a little further up the mountain. Should you want to see her again, you may come after--_if you can_!" Another peal of coarse laughter--in which his comrades, hidden behind the rocks, were heard to join--interrupted his taunting speech. "_Hasta luego_!" he again cried out. "Good morning, noble captain! I leave you to your matins; while I go to enjoy a little stroll in company with the sweet Mercedes. _Va con Dios--o' si gusta V. al Demonio_!" (Go with God, or to the Devil, if you like it better!) At the close of this profane speech, he commenced making approach to the rock, taking Mercedes along with him. Rifle in hand I watched his movements, with an earnestness I cannot describe. The feverish anxiety, with which the stalker regards the shifting of the stag, can give but a faint idea of that stirring within me.