The two Spaniards exchanged a look; then, by a movement rapid as thought, they rushed with an invincible force upon the sentinels who were barring their passage, overthrew them, and bounded into the court. But here they found themselves in the presence of some twenty soldiers, hidden beforehand, who precipitated themselves upon them, and in the twinkling of an eye they were searched and disarmed. "Well, we give ourselves up," said the count; "you need not lay hands on us anymore, and treat us like bandits." The soldiers immediately moved a little on one side, and allowed the prisoners, ruffled by their fall, to put their clothing a little in order. This struggle, short as it was, had, nevertheless, attracted a great number of people. "Come," said Captain Quiroga, rudely seizing the arm of the painter, to make him descend the steps. "Why, this is horrible," exclaimed the latter, arguing with fury; "you violate the right of nations. I am a Frenchman, I am a foreigner; let me go, I tell you." The contest would probably have terminated to the disadvantage of the young man, alone, among so many enemies, if suddenly the governor had not advanced, and addressing the captain-- "Let that caballero go," said he; "there is a mistake. He is an honest man; he is the secretary to the Duc de Mantone." [In our next volume, "The Insurgent Chief," the adventures of the personages mentioned in this description of Life in the Pampas will be continued.]