It has been already mentioned, that the garden wall had, in this quarter, fallen down, and that its place was supplied only by a fence of shrubs and brambles. Its ruins choked the ditch, and gave a passage, which had been formerly effected by a wooden bridge, now buried under the heavy fragments. A single plank spanned over the only gap that was too wide to be passed, except by a bold leap. It was a knowledge of these circumstances, that, in the very tempest of his impulses, determined the course of Juan Lerma, and decided every step he now took to secure life to his wretched companion. He had breathed but a word into Guzman's ear, but it was enough to communicate strength to his heart, and agility to his limbs; and wonderfully adapting his resolutions and movements to those of his guide, he ran with him over the square and across the canal, with such speed, that he rather aided than retarded the steps of his preserver.--They had crossed the plank before the yells of pursuit burst from the astounded assembly, and Juan, striking it now into the ditch with his foot, dragged Guzman through the brambles, exclaiming, "Quick! quick! If we can but reach the palace, we are saved." "Is it _thou_, indeed, Juan Lerma?" cried Guzman, with a voice singularly wild and piteous, but struggling onward.--"Now then thou canst kill me thyself, since thou wouldst not be avenged by infidels." "Quick! quick! they are following us! they are crossing the ditch!--But fifty paces more!" "Ten will serve me--and ten words will make up my reckoning--that is, _here_: the rest hereafter. Stop, fool,--I am dying." "Courage! courage!" exclaimed Juan, endeavouring, but in vain, to drag further the wretch, for whom his rash humanity seemed to have purchased only the right of expiring in a Christian's arms. "Courage, and move on,--we are close followed." "Hark,--listen, and speak not," said Guzman, sinking to the earth, for his wounds were mortal, and the exertions of flight caused them to throw out blood with tenfold violence--He was indeed upon the verge of dissolution: "Listen, listen!" he cried, gasping for breath, yet struggling to speak with such extraordinary eagerness, that it seemed as if he held life and salvation to depend upon his giving utterance to what was in his mind. "Listen, Juan Lerma, for I am a snake and a devil. I hated thee for--But, brief, brief, brief! First, Cortes--Hah! they come!--Drag me into a bush, that I may speak and die. No--here--There is no time--Listen. Saints, give me powers of speech! or devils--either! A little reparation--Why not? I belied thee to Cortes--Hark! hark!" he almost screamed, in the fear that he might not be understood, for he was conscious of the incoherency of his expressions; "hark! hark!--Bleeding to death--Concerning--Cortes--his wife--Dona Catalina--jealousy, _jealousy_!--Poisoned his ear. Understand me! understand me!"