terms?" Don Abrahan inquired, lifting his worried face quickly.
"He refused, Don Abrahan."
"Thank God that he valued duty above my life!" Don Abrahan said.
The magistrate's voice was vibrant with the fervor of his thankfulness; his eyes were bright with the fire of his pride. He drew himself up proudly, his head high, breathing deeply as if he tasted new life in the savor of the wind.
"There is another matter that I have held against you, Don Abrahan," Henderson continued solemnly. "You deserve to die for the murder of John Toberman."
"I am not a suppliant, Don Gabriel, even for my life," Don Abrahan replied, meeting the young man firmly, eye to eye.
"And I am not cowardly enough to strike down a defenseless man who is hopelessly in my power, as you struck John Toberman down. Don Abrahan, I leave you to the judgment of my countrymen when they come. You are free. Felipe, the horses!"
Felipe sprang at the word, running toward the stable. At the corner of the warehouse, where the road to the pueblo could be seen through the trees, Felipe stopped, turning back, throwing out his hands in a gesture of defeat.
"We are too late, Gabriel," he said calmly. "The soldiers are here."
Don Abrahan quickened at the news. He turned
