"That is true," said David; "as the company is formed, let us elect the president." "One word first," said Michael the Basque, stepping into the centre of the circle. "Speak, brother." "I wish to add this: every member of the Association who falls into the hands of the gavachos shall be delivered by the other members, whatever perils they may have to incur in doing so." "We swear it!" the filibusters shouted enthusiastically. "Unless it is impossible," Morgan said. "Nothing is impossible for us," William Drake remarked, rudely. "That is true, brother. You are right, I was mistaken," Morgan replied, with a smile. "The society will be called that of The Twelve; only the death of a member will allow another to be admitted, and he must be chosen unanimously," Michael continued. "We swear it!" the filibusters exclaimed once more. "Now, brothers," said Bartholomew, "let us proceed to the election, by ballot, in order to protect the liberty of the vote." "There are pens, ink, and paper on that table, brothers," Montbarts remarked. "And here is my cap," Red Stocking said, with a laugh; "throw your votes into it." And, removing his beaver skin cap, the filibuster laid it on the ground in the middle of the room. Then the adventurers, with perfect order, rose one after the other, and in turn went to write their vote, which they deposited, after rolling up the paper, in Red Stocking's cap. Then all the adventurers returned to their seats: "Have we all voted?" David asked. "All!" the filibusters replied, in chorus. "Now, brother," Drake said to David, "since you hold the cap, proclaim the result." David questioned his comrades with a glance, and they bowed their heads in affirmation; then he took up the first roll that came to hand, opened it, and read-- "Montbarts, the Exterminator." And passed on to a second. "Montbarts, the Exterminator," he read again. It was the same with the third, fourth, and so on up to the twelfth and last--all bore the words-- "Montbarts, the Exterminator." It was a sinister challenge given to the Spanish nation, of whom this man was the most obstinate enemy. Montbarts rose, took off his hat, and bowed gracefully to his comrades. "Brothers," he said, "I thank you--the confidence you place in me shall not be disappointed." "Long live Montbarts, the Exterminator!" all the filibusters shouted, impulsively. The terrible company of The Twelve was created. Filibusterism then really became a formidable power. [Footnote 1: Term of contempt for the Spaniards.] CHAPTER XIV. THE SECOND PROPOSAL. Montbarts allowed the enthusiasm of his comrades time to calm, and then spoke again. There was no change in his appearance; nothing in his face denoted the joy of triumph or of satisfied ambition; still the vote of his companions, by nominating him Chief of the filibusters, had rendered him in a moment a man more powerful than many a prince. His face was just as impassive, his voice equally firm.