The soldiers recognizing, in spite of their excitement, the voice they had so long been accustomed to obey, halted instinctively. Then the general restored order among them as far as was possible, and the ford was crossed rapidly and in a manner that did not endanger the position of the army. On reaching the plain the infantry dismounted and formed; the general arranged them so that they should support the cavalry, and drew his sword, whose blade flashed in the sun. "I throw away the scabbard," he shouted in a voice heard by all; "forward! For the king and for Spain!" "Long live Spain!" the soldiers shouted. The Spanish army then rushed like an avalanche into the defile, whence the noise of the invisible combat could still be heard. CHAPTER XXXVI. A YOUNG HEART. Oliver Clary, when he left the Hacienda del Río, was not mistaken in saying to Count de Melgosa that he was afraid Don Melchior would commit some folly; the hunter's foreboding was destined to be realized even sooner than he thought. The young man, whose mind was made up beforehand, did not wish to argue with his two friends; but, satisfied with the information the hunter had given him, impatiently awaited the moment when he should be alone, in order to carry out the plan he had formed. This plan, of an audacity that trenched almost on insanity, he had been careful not to let the count or the Canadian suspect, as he felt sure they would oppose it with all their might. Don Melchior, brought up on the Indian border, accustomed from his earliest youth to scour the woods in all directions in the pursuit of Indians or wild beasts, was habituated to desert life and thoroughly conversant with redskin habits; hence, he had no doubt he would be able to get to the prisoners. Hence, so soon as the count and Oliver had left the hacienda, the young man made his preparations; that is to say, he carefully inspected his firearms, placed provisions in his alforjas, and mounted his horse. It was about four in the afternoon. The great gate of the hacienda was open; hence he went out the more easily, because being merely regarded as a guest of the count, no one had received orders to impede his movements or prevent him doing what he thought proper. The young man slowly descended the mountain; at the moment when he reached the plain, the sound of a galloping horse made him turn round. Diego López was coming toward him at full speed, and Don Melchior waited for him. "¡Viva Dios!" the worthy man exclaimed, "Where on earth are you going, Don Melchior?" The young man looked at him haughtily. "Am I your master's prisoner?" he replied, drily. "Not at all, señor," the peon said, with the greatest politeness. "In that case, by what right do you ask me such a question? Am I not at liberty to do what I please?" "I do not say the contrary." "If that is the case, what do you want with me?"