Trained by the misfortunes which had occurred to him, from the mistaken economy of his worthy father, Don Cornelio had ever since felt an aversion to second-rate horses, and on the present journey he had taken care to provide himself with a good one. Knowing the fact, he had fair hopes of being able to distance his pursuers. Driving his spurs deeply into the ribs of his horse, he permitted the animal to choose its own course--so long as it carried him in a direction opposite to that from which he was pursued. Forgetting all about Costal and Clara, he rode away like the wind; and, in all likelihood, would have got clear beyond the reach of his pursuers, but for an unforeseen misfortune. In passing a gigantic cypress his horse stumbled upon its projecting roots, and came head foremost to the ground--flinging his rider out of the saddle with such force that, but for the softness of the spot on which he fell, some of his bones would undoubtedly have suffered fracture. He was but little damaged by the fall, and, before he could get to his feet, and recover his horse, one of the pursuers had ridden up, and casting out a lazo, noosed him round the body. To whom was the captain a prisoner? Of this he was completely ignorant, still uncertain as to who were in possession of the hacienda. As soon as he had regained his feet, however, a voice cried out, interrogatively, "For Spain, or the Independence?" Before making answer, Don Cornelio looked up. Half-a-dozen men had arrived upon the ground, and encircled him in their midst, forming a menacing cordon around him. Of one and all the aspect was sinister and doubtful. "Spain, or the Independence?" repeated the voice, in a more threatening tone. Thus brusquely called upon to proclaim his colours, the Captain, not knowing those of the party who surrounded him, hesitated to make answer. "Very well, cavallero!" cried one of the men, "answer or not, as you please. No doubt of it," he continued, addressing himself to a comrade, "this fellow is in company with the other two. Bring him along to the hacienda!" At these words one of his captors seized Don Cornelio by the arm, and commenced dragging him along toward the illuminated building. "Hold!" cried the first speaker, as, under the glare of the distant lights, he saw that their prisoner was neither negro nor Indian. "_Por Dios_! this fellow is white." "Red, black, and white!" added another. "We want only a _mestizo_ to complete the collection." From these speeches Don Cornelio conjectured that his comrades, Costal and Clara, had been already captured by the same party who were making him their prisoner. He was still ignorant, however, as to whether his captors were royalists or insurgents; and, before proceeding further, he determined, if possible, to settle that question. "What do you want with me?" he inquired, in the hope of obtaining some clue in the answer.