r then she perceived
that the padrecito was not a handsome man. Presto, there was another
eloping, and the holy Father Fischer felt bad, so very bad that when he
got into favor with Maximilian, he had me condemned for certain
toll-taking matters he knew of. But I vanished in time, and I've been
serving under Mendez as a loyal and undiscouraged Imperialist until
yesterday. But yesterday the padre recognized me at a review of the
troops. Your Mercy figures to himself how long I waited after that? Your
Mercy observed how fast I was riding?"

The fellow's audacity saved him. The news he brought proved correct.
Escobedo had not been attacked. Besides, Regules perhaps hoped to trap
Mendez through the former Imperialist scout, though Driscoll derided the
idea and even counseled the worthy deserter's execution.

Don Tiburcio's lank jaw dropped. Driscoll's advice was too heavy a
recoil on his own wits, for had he not once saved the Gringo's life,
feeling that one day he might be a beneficiary of the Gringo's singular
aversion to shooting people? And now here was the Gringo in quite
another of his unexpected humors. But what bothered Don Tiburcio most
was the acumen that tempered the American's mercy. The facts indeed
stood as Driscoll casually laid them before General Regules. Tibby, for
instance, had neglected to call himself a "loyal" Republican. Asked for
a description of the new earthworks on the Cerro de las Campanas, he
only told how peons and criminals were forced to carry adobes there
though exposed to Escobedo's sharpshooters, which had in it for Tibby
the subtle element of a jest. Or asked about the new powder mills, he
described how Maximilian slept patriotically wrapped in a native serape,
woven with the eagle and colors, or related how the Emperor won the
hearts of soldiers and citizens by his princely and ever amiable
bearing.

"Now sing us the national hymn," said Driscoll, "and the betrayal of
your former friends will be complete."

But though Don Tiburcio had deserted for convenience and perhaps meant
to be a spy in the dissident camp, yet Regules saved him, while Driscoll
lifted his shoulders indifferently and at heart was not sorry.

The Celaya road, crossing a flat country, first touches Queretero on its
southwestern corner, and from here the two Republican brigades beheld
the ancient romantic town in the dawn as they approached. Many beautiful
Castilian towers, stately and tapering to needles of stone,