It was very broad. His voice was like the muttering of a bull.

"'Cut, Senor teniente. Cut!'

"I drew my sword, my new unblunted sword that had seen no service as
yet, and severed the many turns of the hide rope. I did this without
knowing the why and the wherefore of my action, but as it were compelled
by my faith in that man. The sergeant made as if to cry out, but
astonishment deprived him of his voice, and he remained standing with
his mouth open as if overtaken by sudden imbecility.

"I sheathed my sword and faced the soldiers. An air of awestruck
expectation had replaced their usual listless apathy. I heard the voice
of Gaspar Ruiz shouting inside, but the words I could not make out
plainly. I suppose that to see him with his arms free augmented the
influence of his strength: I mean by this, the spiritual influence that
with ignorant people attaches to an exceptional degree of bodily vigour.
In fact, he was no more to be feared than before, on account of the
numbness of his arms and hands, which lasted for some time.

"The sergeant had recovered his power of speech. 'By all the saints!'
he cried, 'we shall have to get a cavalry man with a lasso to secure him
again, if he is to be led to the place of execution. Nothing less than a
good enlazador on a good horse can subdue him. Your worship was pleased
to perform a very mad thing.'

"I had nothing to say. I was surprised myself, and I felt a childish
curiosity to see what would happen next. But the sergeant was thinking
of the difficulty of controlling Gaspar Ruiz when the time for making an
example would come.