point to the administrador. "Why is your
master not present?" inquired General Almonte. The administrador opened
his mouth, and it stayed open. Colonel Dupin had promised to shoot him
if he breathed a word of Don Anastasio being a prisoner.

[Illustration: THE EMPEROR MAXIMILIAN]

But someone whispered something to a person on the outskirts of the
entourage, who passed it on to the very centre till it came to the ear
of Col. Miguel Lopez of Her Majesty's Dragoons. The someone who
initiated the message was Don Tiburcio, the watchful herder over one
golden goose. As a result, an aide rescued Murguia from the claws of the
Tiger.

Maximilian looked the weazened old man over in disappointment. Here,
then, was the lord of Moctezuma, an hacendado, and hence one of the
heavy timbers for his empire building. Don Anastasio scraped awkwardly
and craved many pardons for not being on hand to welcome His Majesty.
Overcoming a curious aversion to the man, the emperor straightway
invested him with the newly created order of Civil Merit, and Don
Anastasio, without a peon to till his fields or to oil his machinery,
quaked under the honor of a copper medal.

"And," pursued the monarch, "We find a need of stout officials, for We
have been grieved to learn of hacendados who secretly aid the prowling
rebellious outlaws that infest our country.--And as We must have a
prefect in this district of an integrity like your own, it pleases Us,
dear caballero, to name you jefe politico."

The new jefe's greenish eyes contracted in terror. He thought of the
brigands whom magistrates were supposed to discourage, and he tried to
frame excuses.

"Accept, you fool," someone whispered. "Mexicans can't refuse
office--that's decreed." It was Don Tiburcio, his sombrero against his
breast. To Murguia the Roman sword on the crown seemed more than ever
emblematic of "Woe to the conquered." In a veritable panic he accepted.

As it was fitting that this day of a people's emancipation should be
commemorated by public praise to Almighty God, the Lesser Cortege
formed, and careful of precedence, went to worship their Maker. The
freedmen trooped after, waving jubilee branches.

The little church of the hacienda stood on a barren knoll, mid chaparral
and graves. The curate's white adobe adjoining was the only near
habitation. A stone walk as wide as the church itself approached for a
hundred yards, sloping up from a pasture below. The one tower opened on
fou