esently to a velvet violet haze. Then
the stars came out, close and cold and innumerable.

Still Girard rode, taking advantage of the cool breath of night. Toward
morning he stopped at a sand-wash where three or four dusty cottonwoods
relieved the vegetation of mesquite, palo verde, and cacti. Among the
rocks a spring rose hesitant to the surface and struggled faintly for
life against the palpitating heat and thirsty drought of the desert.

The corporal hobbled the horses. The men stretched themselves in the
sand and fell into deep sleep. It was noon when they awoke. They ate,
lounged in such shade as the cottonwoods offered from the quivering
heat, and waited till mid-afternoon. Having saddled and repacked, they
struck again across the dreary roll of sandhills and washes. When Noche
Buena lay at their feet the sun was low in the sky.

Into the dusty main street of the village the two men rode at a walk. A
sentinel with a rifle stopped them. Girard explained that he wanted to
see Pasquale.

"He is dead--shot by a Gringo who has gone to hell already. And another
Gringo will be shot when the sun falls below the hills, and perhaps
another to-morrow. Who knows? You, too, may pay for the death of the
Liberator," jeered the sentry.

"Pasquale dead--and shot by an American?" asked the captain in surprise.

"As I have said. But General Culvera killed the dog in his tracks. Ho,
Manuel! Call an officer. A Gringo wants to see the general," he shouted
to a barefoot trooper crouched in the shade of an adobe house.

Girard explained to the officer that he was a messenger from the
President of the United States. He and the corporal were searched and
their arms removed.

The Mexican officer apologized. "Since Pasquale was murdered, we take no
chances," he explained. "You understand I do not at all doubt you are
what you say. But we search all strangers to make sure."

After Culvera had glanced over the credentials of Girard, he was all
suavity. "I offer you a hundred welcomes; first for yourself, as an
officer of the army of our sister Republic, and second as an envoy from
your President, for whom I have a most profound respect. But not a word
of your mission until we have dined. You will want first of all a bath
after your long dusty trip. May I offer you my own quarters for the
present till arrangements can be made?"

Captain Girard bowed. "You are very kind, general. Believe me, I
appreciate your courtesy. But first I mus