"'It is very simple, nevertheless,' Juan answered. 'Zucarraga will never again give the command to fire on your troops.'
"'He is dead?'
"'He ought to be, by this time. If it is not all over to-night, it will be by to-morrow.'
"Old Garrido was deeply moved, and his face was as white as his mustache. He wished to know more, not understanding Araquil's 'it will be by to-morrow,' and the lad told him everything: how he had tracked the Carlist chief, how he had endeavored to plant his knife in his breast, and, finally, how he had poured upon the raw flesh of the wounded man the poison of that ring that he had been keeping for himself.
"It seemed to the general as if he were choking, strangling, in the clutches of some hideous nightmare. Beneath his snowy locks his black eyes blazed like balls of fire. He only allowed himself to say:
"'You did that, you? You did that? To a wounded man?'
"Then Juan, speaking as a madman might speak, went on to tell how he would have done a great deal more than that for the sake of winning Pepa, and that as Father Chegaray had insisted on a portion of two thousand douros, he had taken those two thousand douros where he could find them. And besides—and the general himself had said it—he had caused the death of many men, and was continually causing their death, and brave men, too, this Zucarraga!
"'In battle, yes!' said Garrido hotly. 'In battle!'
"But that was an argument that had no force for Araquil; the only justification that he offered for what he had done was his passion for Pepa. He wanted
