They listened for a moment:  yes, that half-score of villains held back in dismay at the noble appearance of the old man, and the flashing fire of his eye.

“Ha! do you falter, ye villains? do you fear a good sword with right to back it?”

But hark! what sound is that which startles the Montaros in the midst of their villany, and makes them look into each other’s faces with such consternation and fear?  It is a very unfrequented spot-who can be near?  Scarcely had the sound fallen on their ears, before three horsemen in the undress uniform of the Spanish infantry, dashed up to the spot at full speed, while one of them, who seemed to be the leader of the party, leaped from his horse, and before the others could follow his example, was engaged in a desperate hand to hand conflict with the robbers.  Twice he discharged his pistols with fatal effect, and now he was fighting sword and sword with a stout, burly Montaro, who was approaching that side of the volante where the lady sat, still half concealed by the ample folds of her rebosa, though the approach of assistance had led her to venture so far as to partially uncover her face, and to observe the scene about her.

The headlong attack, so opportunely made by the fresh horsemen, was too much for treble their number to withstand, more especially as the leader of them had met with such signal success at the outset-having shot two, and mortally wounded a third.  In this critical state of affairs, the remaining banditti concluded that discretion was the better part of valor, and made the best of their time and remaining strength to beat a hasty retreat, leaving the old gentleman and his companion with their three deliverers, quite safe in the middle of the road.

“By our lady, sir, ’twas a gallant act.  There were ten of those rascals, and but three of you,” said the old gentleman, stepping out of the volante and arranging his ruffled dress.

“Ten, senor? a soldier would make nothing of a score of such scapegraces as those,” replied the officer (for such it was now apparent he was), as he wiped the gore from his reeking blade with a broad, green leaf from the roadside, and placed it in the scabbard.

One of the soldiers who had accompanied the officer had now cut the thongs that bound the surviving outrider, who was one of the family attaches of the old gentleman, and who now busied himself about the vehicle, at one moment attending to the lady’s wants, and now to harnessing the horse once more.

Removing his cap, and wiping the reeking perspiration from his brow, the young officer now approached the volante and said to the lady: 

“I trust, madame, that you have received no further injury by this unfortunate encounter than must needs occur to you from fright.”

As he spoke thus, the lady turned quickly from looking towards the old gentleman, who was now on the other side of the vehicle, and after a moment exclaimed: