On reaching the shore of the lake, the second _litera_ with its escort made halt, while the Indians bearing the torches commenced searching for something among the reeds. Costal and Clara, instead of accompanying the party of Don Mariano, had remained upon the ground, in hopes that they would now be left free to continue their pagan incantations, and once more behold the Syren of the dishevelled hair. Don Cornelio also lingered behind, not caring just then to encounter the victorious royalists. As soon as Costal perceived the approach of this new party--once more interrupting his designs--his fury became uncontrollable; and, making towards it on horseback, he snatched a torch from the hands of one of the Indians who were in advance, and then rode straight up to the _litera_. The apparition of a gaunt horseman with a torch in one hand, and a bloody sword in the other, his countenance expressing extreme rage, produced an instantaneous effect on the bearers of the _litera_. Without waiting to exchange a word, they dropped their burden to the ground, and ran back into the woods as fast as their legs could carry them. A stifled cry came from the interior of the _litera_; while Don Cornelio, who had followed Costal, hastened to open the curtains. By the light of the torch which the Zapoteque still carried, they now saw stretched inside the body of a man, with a face wan, pallid, and stained with blood. Don Cornelio at once recognised the young Spaniard--the proprietor of the hacienda San Carlos--the victim of Arroyo's ferocity, and of the cupidity of his associate. The dying man, on seeing Costal, cried out-- "Oh! do not harm me--I have not long to live." Lantejas made signs for this Zapoteque to step aside; and bending over the _litera_, with kind and affectionate speeches endeavoured to calm the apprehensions of the unfortunate sufferer. "Thanks! thanks!" murmured the latter, turning to Don Cornelio with a look of gratitude. "Ah, Senor!" continued he, in a supplicating tone, "perhaps you can tell me--have you seen anything of her?" The interrogatory caused a new light to break upon him to whom it was addressed. He at once remembered the phantom which he had seen while approaching the hacienda; the white form that had vanished into the woods, and again the same apparition just seen among the reeds. Both, no doubt, were one and the same unfortunate creature. Twice, then, had he seen living, one whom the young Spaniard was never likely to see again, except as a corpse. "I have seen no one," replied Don Cornelio, hesitating in his speech, and unwilling to make known his dread suspicions, "no one, except two brigands, who had hidden themselves in the thicket, and who are now--"