noticed
the little padre shifting about uneasily in his seat. At its conclusion
he rose up, and bidding our host "_buenas noches_," was about to
withdraw, when Lincoln, who had been quietly eyeing him for some time
with that sharp, searching look peculiar to men of his kidney, jumped
up, and, placing himself before the door, exclaimed in a drawling,
emphatic tone:

"_No, yer don't_!"

"_Que cosa_?" (What's the matter?) asked the padre indignantly.

"Kay or no kay--cosser or no cosser--yer don't go out o' hyur afore we
do. Rowl, axe yur friend for a piece o' twine, will yer?"

The padre appealed to our host, and he in turn appealed to Raoul. The
Mexican was in a dilemma. He dared not offend the cure, and on the
other hand he did not wish to dictate to his old comrade Raoul.
Moreover, the fierce hunter, who stood like a huge giant in the door,
had a voice in the matter; and therefore Jose Antonio had three minds to
consult at one time.

"It ain't Bob Linkin 'd infringe the rules of hospertality," said the
hunter; "but this hyur's a peculiar case, an' I don't like the look of
that 'ar priest, nohow yer kin fix it."

Raoul, however, sided with the contrabandista, and explained to Lincoln
that the padre was the peaceable cure of the neighbouring village, and
the friend of Don Antonio; and the hunter, seeing that I did not
interpose--for at the moment I was in one of those moods of abstraction,
and scarcely noticed what was going on--permitted the priest to pass
out. I was recalled to myself more by some peculiar expression which I
heard Lincoln muttering after it was over than by the incidents of the
scene itself.

The occurrence had rendered us all somewhat uneasy; and we resolved upon
swallowing our suppers hastily, and, after pushing forward some
distance, to sleep in the woods.

The tortillas were by this time ready, and the pretty Jesusita was
pouring out the chocolate; so we set to work like men who had appetites.

The supper was soon despatched, but our host had some _puros_ in the
house--a luxury we had not enjoyed lately; and, hating to hurry away
from such comfortable quarters, we determined to stay and take a smoke.

We had hardly lit our cigars when Jesusita, who had gone to the door,
came hastily back, exclaiming:

"_Papa--papa! hay gente fuera_!" (Papa, there are people outside!)

As we sprang to our feet several shadows appeared through the open
walls. Lincoln seized his rifle and ran t