DuringthatmealBernalDiazspokeofourfirstmeetingonthecauseway，andofhowIhadgoneneartokillinghiminerror，thinkingthathewasSarceda，andthenheaskedmewhatwasmyquarrelwithSarceda。
　　InasfewwordsaspossibleItoldhimthestoryofmylife，ofalltheevilthatdeGarciaorSarcedahadworkeduponmeandmine，andofhowitwasthroughhimthatIwasinthislandthatday。
　　Helistenedamazed。
　　’HolyMother！’hesaidatlength，’Ialwaysknewhimforavillain，butthat，ifyoudonotlie，friendWingfield，hecouldbesuchamanasthis，Ididnotknow。
　　Nowbymyword，hadIheardthistaleanhourago，Sarcedashouldnothaveleftthiscamptillhehadanswereditorclearedhimselfbycombatwithyou。
　　ButIfearitistoolate；hewastoleaveforMexicoattherisingofthemoon，tostirupmischiefagainstmebecauseIgrantedyouterms——notthatIfearhimthere，wherehisreputeissmall。’
　　’Idonotlieindeed，’Ianswered。
　　’MuchofthistaleIcanproveifneedbe，andItellyouthatIwouldgivehalfthelifethatislefttometostandfacetofaceinopenfightwithhimagain。
　　Everhehasescapedme，andthescorebetweenusislong。’
　　NowasIspokethusitseemedtomethatacoldanddreadfulairplayeduponmyhandsandbrowandawarningsenseofpresentevilcreptintomysoul，overcomingmesothatIcouldnotstirorspeakforawhile。
　　’Letusgoandseeifhehasgone，’saidDiazpresently，andsummoningaguard，hewasabouttoleavethechamber。
　　ItwasatthismomentthatIchancedtolookupandseeawomanstandinginthedoorway。
　　Herhandrestedonthedoorpost；herhead，fromwhichthelonghairstreamed，wasthrownback，andonherfacewasalookofsuchanguishthatatfirst，somuchwasshechanged，IdidnotknowherforOtomie。
　　WhenIknewher，Iknewall；onethingonlycouldconjureuptheterrorandagonythatshoneinherdeepeyes。
　　’Whathaschancedtoourson？’Iasked。
　　’DEAD，DEAD！’sheansweredinawhisperthatseemedtopiercemymarrow。
　　Isaidnothing，formyhearttoldmewhathadhappened，butDiazasked，’Dead——why，whathaskilledhim？’
　　’DeGarcia！
　　Isawhimgo，’repliedOtomie；thenshetossedherarmshigh，andwithoutanothersoundfellbackwardstotheearth。
　　InthatmomentIthinkthatmyheartbroke——atleastIknowthatnothinghashadthepowertomovemegreatlysince，thoughthismemorymovesmedaybydayandhourbyhour，tillIdieandgotoseekmyson。
　　’Say，BernalDiaz，’Icried，withahoarselaugh，’didIlietoyouconcerningthiscomradeofyours？’
　　Then，springingoverOtomie’sbodyIleftthechamber，followedbyBernalDiazandtheothers。
　　WithoutthedoorIturnedtothelefttowardsthecamp。
　　Ihadnotgoneahundredpaceswhen，inthemoonlight，Isawasmalltroopofhorsemenridingtowardsus。
　　ItwasdeGarciaandhisservants，andtheyheadedtowardsthemountainpassontheirroadtoMexico。
　　I
　　wasnottoolate。
　　’Halt！’criedBernalDiaz。
　　’Whocommandsmetohalt？’saidthevoiceofdeGarcia。
　　’I，yourcaptain，’roaredDiaz。
　　’Halt，youdevil，youmurderer，oryoushallbecutdown。’
　　Isawhimstartandturnpale。
　　’Thesearestrangemanners，senor，’hesaid。
　　’OfyourgraceIask——“
　　AtthismomentdeGarciacaughtsightofmeforthefirsttime，forIhadbrokenfromtheholdofDiazwhoclutchedmyarm，andwasmovingtowardshim。
　　Isaidnothing，buttherewassomethinginmyfacewhichtoldhimthatIknewall，andwarnedhimofhisdoom。
　　Helookedpastme，butthenarrowroadwasblockedwithmen。
　　I
　　drewnear，buthedidnotwaitforme。
　　Onceheputhishandonthehiltofthesword，thensuddenlyhewheeledhishorseroundandfleddownthestreetofXaca。
　　DeGarciafled，andIfollowedafterhim，runningfastandlowlikeahound。
　　Atfirsthegainedonme，butsoontheroadgrewrough，andhecouldnotgallopoverit。
　　Wewereclearofthetownnow，orratherofitsruins，andtravellingalongalittlepathwhichtheIndiansusedtobringdownsnowfromXacainthehotweather。
　　Perhapstherearesomefivemilesofthispathbeforethesnowlineisreached，beyondwhichnoIndiandaredtosethisfoot，forthegroundabovewasholy。
　　Alongthispathhewent，andIwascontenttoseeit，forIknewwellthatthetravellercannotleaveit，sinceoneithersideliewater-coursesandcliffs。
　　MileaftermiledeGarciafollowedit，lookingnowtotheleft，nowtotheright，andnowaheadatthegreatdomeofsnowcrownedwithfirethattoweredabovehim。
　　Butheneverlookedbehindhim；heknewwhatwasthere——deathintheshapeofaman！
　　Icameondoggedly，savingmystrength。
　　IwassurethatImustcatchhimatlast，itdidnotmatterwhen。
　　Atlengthhereachedthesnow-linewherethepathended，andforthefirsttimehelookedback。
　　ThereIwassometwohundredpacesbehindhim。
　　I，hisdeath，wasbehindhim，andinfrontofhimshonethesnow。
　　Foramomenthehesitated，andIheardtheheavybreathingofhishorseinthegreatstillness。
　　Thenheturnedandfacedtheslope，drivinghisspursintothebrute’ssides。
　　Thesnowwashard，forherethefrostbitsharply，andforawhile，thoughitwassosteep，thehorsetravelledoveritbetterthanhehaddonealongthepathway。
　　Now，asbefore，therewasonlyoneroadthathecouldtake，forwepassedupthecrestofaridge，apleatasitwereinthegarmentofthemountain，andoneithersideweresteepsofsnowonwhichneitherhorsenormanmightkeephisfooting。
　　Fortwohoursormorewefollowedthatridge，andaswewentthroughthesilenceofthehauntedvolcan，andthelonelinessofitseternalsnows，itseemedtomethatmyspiritenteredintothespiritofmyquarry，andthatwithitseyesIsawallthatwaspassinginhisheart。
　　Toamansowrongedthedreamwaspleasantevenifitwerenottrue，forIreadtheresuchagony，suchblackdespair，suchhauntingmemories，suchterrorofadvancingdeathandofwhatlaybeyondit，thatnorevengeofman’scouldsurpasstheirtorment。
　　Anditwastrue——Iknewthatitwastrue；hesufferedallthisandmore，forifhehadnoconscience，atleasthehadfearandimaginationtoquickenandmultiplythefear。
　　Nowthesnowgrewsteeper，andthehorsewasalmostspent，forhecouldscarcelybreatheatsogreataheight。
　　InvaindiddeGarciadrivehisspursintoitssides，thegallantbeastcoulddonomore。
　　Suddenlyitfelldown。
　　Surely，Ithought，hewillawaitmenow。
　　ButevenIhadnotfathomedthedepthofhisterrors，fordeGarciadisengagedhimselffromthefallenhorse，lookedtowardsme，thenfledforwardonhisfeet，castingawayhisarmourashewentthathemighttravelmorelightly。
　　Bythistimewehadpassedthesnowandwerecometotheedgeoftheicecapthatismadebythemeltingofthesnowwiththeheatoftheinnerfires，orperhapsbythatofthesuninhotseasons，I
　　knownot，anditsfreezinginthewintermonthsorinthecoldofthenights。
　　AtleastthereissuchacaponXaca，measuringnearlyamileindepth，whichliesbetweenthesnowandtheblackrimofthecrater。
　　UpthisiceclimbeddeGarcia，andthetaskisnotoftheeasiest，evenforoneofuntroubledmind，foramanmuststepfromcracktocrackorneedletoneedleofroughice，thatstanduponthesmoothsurfacelikethebristlesonahog’sback，andwoetohimifonebreakorifheslip，forthen，ashefalls，veryshortlythefleshwillbefiledfromhisbonesbythethousandsofsword-likepointsoverwhichhemustpassinhisdescenttowardsthesnow。
　　Indeed，manytimesIfearedgreatlylestthisshouldchancetodeGarcia，forIdidnotdesiretolosemyvengeancethus。
　　ThereforetwicewhenIsawhimindangerIshoutedtohim，tellinghimwheretoputhisfeet，fornowIwaswithintwentypacesofhim，and，strangetosay，heobeyedmewithoutquestion，forgettingeverythinginhisterrorofinstantdeath。
　　ButformyselfIhadnofear，forIknewthatIshouldnotfall，thoughtheplacewasonewhichIhadsurelyshrunkfromclimbingatanyothertime。
　　AllthiswhilewehadbeentravellingtowardsXaca’sfierycrestbythebrightmoonlight，butnowthedawnbrokesuddenlyonthemountaintop，andtheflamediedawayintheheartofthepillarofsmoke。
　　Itwaswonderfultoseetheredglorythatshoneupontheice-cap，andonustwomenwhocreptlikefliesacrossit，whilethemountain’sbreastandtheworldbelowwereplungedintheshadowsofnight。
　　’Nowwehaveabetterlighttoclimbby，comrade！’IcalledtodeGarcia，andmyvoicerangstrangelyamongtheicecliffs，whereneveraman’svoicehadechoedbefore。
　　AsIspokethemountainrumbledandbellowedbeneathus，shakinglikeawind-tossedtree，asthoughinwrathatthedesecrationofitssacredsolitudes。
　　Withtherumblingcameashowerofgreyashesthatraineddownonus，andforalittlewhilehiddeGarciafrommysight。
　　Iheardhimcalloutinfear，andwasafraidlesthehadfallen；butpresentlytheashesclearedaway，andIsawhimstandingsafelyonthelavarimthatsurroundsthecrater。
　　Now，Ithought，hewillsurelymakeastand，forcouldhehavefoundcourageithadbeeneasyforhimtokillmewithhissword，whichhestillwore，asIclimbedfromtheicetothehotlava。
　　Itseemedthathethoughtofit，forheturnedandglaredatmelikeadevil，thenwentonagain，leavingmewonderingwherehebelievedthathewouldfindrefuge。
　　Somethreehundredpacesfromtheedgeoftheice，thesmokeandsteamofthecraterroseintotheair，andbetweenthetwowaslavasohotthatinplacesitwasdifficulttowalkuponit。
　　Acrossthisbed，thattrembledasIpassedoverit，wentdeGarciasomewhatslowly，fornowhewasweary，andI
　　followedhimatmyease，gettingmybreathagain。
　　PresentlyIsawthathehadcometotheedgeofthecrater，forheleanedforwardandlookedover，andIthoughtthathewasabouttodestroyhimselfbyplungingintoit。
　　Butifsuchthoughtshadbeeninhismind，heforgotthemwhenhehadseenwhatsortofnestthiswastosleepin，forturning，hecamebacktowardsme，swordup，andwemetwithinadozenpacesoftheedge。
　　Isaymet，butintruthwedidnotmeet，forhestoppedagain，welloutofreachofmysword。
　　Isatdownuponablockoflavaandlookedathim；itseemedtomethatIcouldnotfeastmyeyesenoughuponhisface。
　　Andwhatafaceitwas；thatofamorethanmurdererabouttomeethisreward！
　　WouldthatIcouldpainttoshowit，fornowordscantellthefearfulnessofthoseredandsunkeneyes，thosegrinningteethandquiveringlips。
　　Ithinkthatwhentheenemyofmankindhascasthislastdieandwonhislastsoul，hetoowilllookthusashepassesintodoom。
　　’Atlength，deGarcia！’Isaid。
　　’Whydoyounotkillmeandmakeanend？’heaskedhoarsely。
　　’Whereisthehurry，cousin？
　　ForhardontwentyyearsIhavesoughtyou，shallwethenpartsosoon？
　　Letustalkawhile。
　　Beforeweparttomeetnomore，perhapsofyourcourtesyyouwillanswermeaquestion，forIamcurious。
　　Whyhaveyouwroughttheseevilsonmeandmine？
　　Surelyyoumusthavesomereasonforwhatseemstobeanemptyandfoolishwickedness。’
　　Ispoketohimthuscalmlyandcoldly，feelingnopassion，feelingnothing。
　　ForinthatstrangehourIwasnolongerThomasWingfield，Iwasnolongerhuman，Iwasaforce，aninstrument；I
　　couldthinkofmydeadsonwithoutsorrow，hedidnotseemdeadtome，forIpartookofthenaturethathehadputoninthischangeofdeath。
　　IcouldeventhinkofdeGarciawithouthate，asthoughhealsowerenothingbutatoolinsomeotherhand。
　　Moreover，I