For two hours or more we followed that ridge, and as we went through the silence of the haunted volcan, and the loneliness of its eternal snows, it seemed to me that my spirit entered into the spirit of my quarry, and that with its eyes I saw all that was passing in his heart.

To a man so wronged the dream was pleasant even if it were not true, for I read there such agony, such black despair, such haunting memories, such terror of advancing death and of what lay beyond it, that no revenge of man's could surpass their torment.

And it was true--I knew that it was true; he suffered all this and more, for if he had no conscience, at least he had fear and imagination to quicken and multiply the fear.
Now the snow grew steeper, and the horse was almost spent, for he could scarcely breathe at so great a height.

In vain did de Garcia drive his spurs into its sides, the gallant beast could do no more.

Suddenly it fell down.