I threw myself upon it, gripping at the wearer's throat, and together we rolled down the side of the causeway into the shallow water at the edge of the lake.

I was uppermost, and with a fierce joy I dashed the blood from my eyes that I might see to kill my enemy caught at last.

His body was in the lake but his head lay upon the sloping bank, and my plan was to hold him beneath the water till he was drowned, for I had lost my club.
'At length, de Garcia!' I cried in Spanish as I shifted my grip.
'For the love of God let me go!' gasped a rough voice beneath me.

'Fool, I am no Indian dog.' Now I peered into the man's face bewildered.

I had seized de Garcia, but the voice was not his voice, nor was the face his face, but that of a rough Spanish soldier.
'Who are you ?' I asked, slackening my hold.