"Dolores _is_ for me! She will be mine in another week or so. She is the guardian of the opal, and that also will be mine. When I am possessed of the devil stone, the Indians will flock round my standard. I have the fleet, I have an army, I will have the Indians, too, my allies, guided by the devil stone. That, also, will be mine, and Dolores with it. I will become Dictator of Cholacaca. I will raise her to a pinnacle of power. She will rule the South--nay, the North also. Mexico, Venezuela, Nicaragua, Guatemala, they will all be mine. In the North, the United States; in the South, the Empire of the Opal, with myself as Ruler. It is a grand----" "Dream!" interrupted Jack, faintly, for the pain of his wound was telling on his frame. "It is a dream! a dream!" "It is no dream! Or, if a dream, it will soon turn out a reality. And you--you low-born Englishman, would dare to bar my way to this fame. Lie there, Señor, and wait my commands. You will die, and by a death which will break even your spirit. You will die and be forgotten, while I, Hypolito Xuarez, will reconstruct on this continent the Empire of Montezuma!" He spoke to deaf ears, for, overcome by fatigue and pain, Duval had fainted. Xuarez bent over him, and held the lantern to his face. It was deadly pale, and the eyes were closed. "I do not want him to die," muttered the remorseless Mestizo, going towards the door. "I shall send a doctor to look after his wound. He shall be made whole again, but only to perish in tortures. Not for you, Don Juan, is Dolores; not for you the opal, but death and dishonour. You fall! I rise! My star quenches yours in its burning splendour." In another moment he had quitted the prison, leaving his rival stretched out in the darkness, to all appearances lifeless and lost. CHAPTER V. IN SHADOWLAND. Weary body, aching brain, Tortured mind, and heavy soul, Fourfold being, one existence! Life with troublous insistence, To ye brings but constant dole, Ceaseless weeping, endless pain; Yet is all this sorrow vain When the waves of slumber roll Over body, over soul. In such slumber should ye list, hence Flies the spirit to attain That far land of dreams and stories, Misty realms of airy glories, Where the body hath no being, Nor the eyes an earthly seeing And the mind makes no resistance To events which overleap Nature's laws, which bind existence; From our sphere the spirit fleeing Dwells but in the realm of sleep. After that extraordinary interview with Don Hypolito in the prison, Jack ceased to take any interest in earthly matters, and went for a space into shadow-land. He was not dead, but delirious. As a captive balloon is anchored to earth, so Jack's soul had flown into the realms of dream, yet was held to his body by a small amount of life.