“You know all the circumstances of this case already,” observed Colonel La Coste, addressing himself to the Alcade: “these men are traitors. What penalty should be exacted for treason and rebellion?” The Spaniard looked confusedly around, turned his eyes aside, and then, in an under tone that scarcely reached the ear, he muttered, “Death!” Low as the voice was in which the opinion was delivered, it fell upon the ready ear of the younger of the partidas. “Death!” he exclaimed, “and doomed to that dread penalty by a countryman?--Countryman!--no, no,--the craven has no country. Live, Julian Lopez, live for a brief time; but let me add the terms on which that wretched existence of thine shall be continued. From the hand that tenders a petition, dread the knife. Reject the food offered thee--it will be drugged. Touch not the wine-cup--it will be poisoned. Well, though thou escape these, a more infamous fate will be reserved for thee: you will perish on a tree; none pitying, and all pouring out execrations as you go along. Some galley-slwe will affix the felon-halter; and when the carrion is committed to mother earth, every true Spaniard as he passes the unholy spot that covers it, will strike his boot upon the clay, and mutter ‘Curses on the ashes of the traitor!’” “Stop!” cried the commandant. “Advance these criminals;--you guess your doom----” “Guess?” asked the elder partida; “no, no--to guess would infer uncertainty. We know it well. Thou and I, Jose, shall die as many better patriots have died before us.” “You are friends of that dark brigand, whom you call the Empecinado?” observed the French commandant. “It is indeed a proud distinction you confer, in calling us friends of that bold enemy to French oppression.” “You share his confidence?” continued the colonel. “Undoubtedly,” returned the elder; “ay, and I believe as much as any living men.” “You knew his errand here, then?” “Yes.” “Name it!” Both the partidas laughed contemptuously “You trifle with me, villains! But, by Heaven! I will no longer trifle with you. Cammaran,” he said to a voltigeur, “get your men under arms; throw the gates of the court-yard open; admit the villagers, and prepare for an instant execution. Let twelve files load; we’ll join you in five minutes.” The officer left the room, and the old soldier thus continued:-- “Time presses: are you prepared to die?” he said, addressing the condemned. A proud glance from the condemned conveyed the guerillas’ answer to the commandant. “Would you avert your fate?” “Willingly!” replied the elder of the two. “Wherefore? and by what means?” said Colonel La Coste.