"Certainly." "Very well. We shall be killed, I am certain, but the victory will cost our enemies dearly." Without losing a moment, the captain made his arrangements for the combat. The Brazilians jumped to the ground, cut the throats of their horses, and with the bodies of the unhappy animals they formed a circle. The marquis, occupied at this time in speaking with animation to doña Laura, did not perceive this butchery, till it was too late to oppose it. "What are you doing?" cried he. "Entrenchments," impassively answered Diogo. "Behind these bodies we shall shelter ourselves." "But how, then, shall we fly after the combat?" The Indian burst into a nervous and discordant laugh. "We shall not fly, inasmuch as we shall be dead." The marquis could find nothing to answer. Doña Laura had thrown herself on the ground, a prey to profound despair. Her horse was the only one that had not been killed. "You are about to die," said Don Roque. "I hope so," answered she, with a low and broken voice. "You thoroughly hate me, then?" "There is not in my heart place for hatred; I despise you." "Doña Laura," he pursued, "there is yet time. Reveal to me your secret." "Why should I do so?" she said. "Curses!" cried he, stamping with rage. "This woman is a demon. Will nothing, then, convince you? Of what use to you now would be the possession of that secret?" "And to you?" she coldly asked. "Tell me, tell me, and I swear to you I will save you, even if to do so I should have to walk in blood up to the knees. Tell me, Doña Laura, I entreat you." "No! I prefer to die, than to be saved by you." "Die, then, and be cursed!" cried the marquis, seizing a pistol from his girdle. A hand arrested his arm. He turned round, darting a fierce look at him who had dared to touch him. "Excuse me, your Excellency," said Diogo to him, still impassable, "if I interrupt your interesting conversation with the señorita." Doña Laura had not made a movement to escape death. Death for her would have been a deliverance. "What do you want with me?" cried the marquis. "To announce to you, my lord, that the moment is near. Look!" The marquis looked. "Why, wretch!" cried he, after a moment, "If you are not a traitor, you are grossly deceived." "As you please, my lord." "It is a manada of wild horses." "Exactly so, my lord," answered the captain, with a smile of disdain; "you have not the least experience of the style in which the Guaycurus fight, nor of life in the desert. This is probably the last thing I shall teach you, but it is well you should know it. The Guaycurus are the best horsemen in the world. This is the ruse they employ to surprise the enemy. They send in advance a troop of wild horses, in order to conceal their number; then in the rear they follow, lying on their sides on their horses, the left hand on the mane, and the right foot supported by the stirrup."