CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

"IS IT A GRITO?"

The soldiers of the guard had grounded arms, and were sauntering back to
their benches, when something came into the sergeant's mind which caused
him misgiving.

Was it possible he had been paying honours to those undeserving of them?

He was sure of it being the carriage of Don Ignacio Valverde; his horses
and livery too. But nothing more. None of the party was known to him
as belonging to Don Ignacio's family or servants. For Jose was but
groom or second coachman, who occasionally drove out his young mistress,
but never to the Palace, or other place where the sergeant had been on
duty.

Equally a stranger to him was the big fellow on the box, who had hold of
the reins, as also one of the gentlemen inside. It occurred to him,
however, that the face of the other was familiar--awakening the memories
of more than ordinary interest.

"_Mil diablos_!" he muttered to himself as he stood gazing after the
retreating equipage. "If that wasn't my old captain, Don Ruperto Rivas,
there isn't another man in Mexico more like him. I heard say he had
turned _salteador_, and they'd taken him only the other day. _Carria_!
what's that?"

The carriage, as yet not over a hundred yards from the _garita_, still
going on at a rather moderate pace, was seen suddenly to increase its
speed: in fact, the horses had started off at a gallop! Nor was this
from any scare or fright, but caused by a sharp cut or two of the whip,
as he could tell by seeing the arm of the big man on the box several
times raised above the roof, and vigorously lowered again.
Extraordinary behaviour on his part; how was it to be accounted for?
And how explain that of the gentleman inside, who appeared satisfied
with the changed pace? At all events they were doing naught to prevent
it, for again and again the whip strokes were repeated. None of the
party were intoxicated; at least they had no appearance of it when they
passed the gate. A little excited-looking, though no more than might be
expected in men returning from a public procession. But an elegant
light equipage with horses in full gallop, so unlike the carriage of a
Cabinet Minister! What the mischief could it mean?

The guard-sergeant had just asked himself the question, when, hark! a
gun fired at the citadela! Soon after another from the military college
of Chapultepec! And from the direction of the Plaza Grande the ringing
of bells. First those