It was de Garcia and his servants, and they headed towards the mountain pass on their road to Mexico.

I was not too late.
'Halt!' cried Bernal Diaz.
'Who commands me to halt ?' said the voice of de Garcia.
'I, your captain,' roared Diaz.

'Halt, you devil, you murderer, or you shall be cut down.' I saw him start and turn pale.
'These are strange manners, senor,' he said.

'Of your grace I ask--' At this moment de Garcia caught sight of me for the first time, for I had broken from the hold of Diaz who clutched my arm, and was moving towards him.

I said nothing, but there was something in my face which told him that I knew all, and warned him of his doom.