I was quite sensible of the perilous situation in which I had placed myself by my imprudent promenade. As the robbers appeared to have given up their design upon my purse, and were making their best speed to get out of reach of my pistol, I thought the wisest way would be to let them go off. With this design I was about to content myself--only staying to pick up my cloak, that in the struggle had fallen from my shoulders. Having recovered it, I commenced taking my departure from the place. I had not gone six paces, when I became half convinced that I had made a mistake, and that it would have been better to have killed the three thieves. After doing so, I might have found time to steal off unobserved. Allowing them to escape, I had given them the opportunity to return in greater strength, and under a different pretence from that of their former profession. A cry that all three raised as they ran down the street, was answered by a score of other voices; and, before I had time to make out its meaning, I was surrounded by a circle of faces, scowling upon me with an expression of unmistakeable hostility. Were they all robbers--associates of the three who had assaulted me? Had I chanced into one of those streets entirely abandoned to the thieving fraternity--such as may be found in European cities--where the guardians of the night do not dare to shew their faces? This was my first impression, as I noted the angry looks and hostile attitude of those who came clustering around me. It became quickly changed, as I listened to the phrase, fiercely vociferated in my ears: "_Dios y Libertad! Muera el Americano_!" The discomfited footpads had returned upon a new tack. They had seen my uniform, as it became uncloaked in the struggle; and, under a pretence of patriotism, were now about to take satisfaction for their discomfiture and disappointment. By good fortune I was standing upon a spot where there was a tolerable light--thrown upon the street by a couple of lamps suspended near. Had it been darker, I might have been set upon at once, and cut down, before I could distinguish my antagonists. But the light benefited me in a different way. It exposed to my new assailants a brace of Colt's revolvers--one held in hand and ready to be discharged; the other ready to be drawn. The knife was their weapon. I could see a dozen blades bared simultaneously around me; but to get to such close quarters would cost some of them their lives. They had the sharpness to perceive it; and halting at several paces distance--formed a sort of irregular ring around me. It was not a complete circle, but only the half: for I had taken my stand against the front of a house, close to its doorway. It was a lucky thought, or instinct: since it prevented my being assailed from the rear. "What do you want?" I asked, addressing my antagonists in their own tongue--which by good fortune I spoke with sufficient purity.