"Gratitude from you would be an insult; but if in the red ditch-water that runs through your heart there be a spark of courage, mount your horse, choose what arms you please, and come forth. I defy you to single combat!" Don Rafael in pronouncing this challenge rose erect in his stirrups. His countenance, noble and defiant, presented a strange contrast to the aspect of vulgar ferocity that characterised the features of the man thus addressed. The insult was point blank, and would have aroused the veriest poltroon; but Arroyo possessed only the courage of the vulture. "Indeed?" responded he, sneeringly. "Bah! do you suppose me such a fool as to go down there? fifty to one!" "I pledge my honour, as a gentleman," continued the captain, "as an officer, in the presence of his soldiers; as a Christian, in the presence of his God--that whatever may be the issue of the combat--that is, if I succumb--no harm shall happen to you." For a moment the bandit appeared to hesitate. One might have fancied that he was calculating the chances of an encounter. But the address and valour of the dragoon captain were known to him by too many proofs, to allow him to reckon many chances in his favour. He dared not risk the combat. "I refuse," he said, at length. "Mount your horse. I shall abandon mine, and fight you on foot." "_Demonio_! I refuse, I tell you." "Enough. I might have known it. One word more then, I shall still agree to your life being spared. I solemnly promise it, if you will allow the inmates of this hacienda to leave the place, and put themselves under the safeguard of a loyal enemy." "I refuse again," said the bandit, with a demoniac sneer. "Away, poltroon! you are less than man; and, by the God of vengeance, when this hand clutches you, you shall not die as a man, but as a mad dog." After delivering this terrible adieu, the captain put spurs to his horse, turning his back upon the bandit with a gesture of the most profound contempt. The bugle sounded the "forward;" and the detachment, wheeling around the wall of the hacienda, once more took the road that led over the ridge. Among other bitter reflections, with which this interview had furnished Don Rafael, not the least painful was his apprehension for the safety of Gertrudis. No wonder he should have fears; considering the character of the ruffians in whose power he was compelled to leave her. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The apprehensions of Don Rafael were only realised in part. Two days afterwards he received information from one of his scouts--sent to Las Palmas for the purpose--that Arroyo and Bocardo had quitted the neighbourhood--this time in reality--and that Don Mariano and his daughters had suffered no further injury from them, beyond the pillage of their hacienda. This the robbers had stripped of every valuable that it was convenient for them to carry away. CHAPTER FORTY THREE. RONCADOR RESTORED.