nce make known about Arroyo and Bocardo?"

"Only that they are more thirsty than ever--the one for blood, the other
for plunder."

Costal imparted this information in a tone but little calculated to
inspire the Captain with a relish for his mission.

He endeavoured to conceal his uneasiness, however; and, raising his
voice to a tone of assumed boldness, he inquired:--

"It is to the ford of the Ostuta, then, we are to go?"

"Yes, Senor Captain, whenever it pleases your honour to move forward."

"We have plenty of time," replied Don Cornelio, evidently reluctant to
make any further advance. "I wish to take a few hours of rest before
going thither. And your old master, Don Mariano de Silva--did you hear
anything of him?"

"Yes. He has long ago left the hacienda Las Palmas, and is living in
Oajaca. As to that of Del Valle, it is still occupied by the Royalist
garrison."

"So then we have enemies on all sides of us?" rejoined the Captain.

"Arroyo and Bocardo," said Costal, "should scarcely be enemies to an
officer bearing despatches from the General Morelos. As for Clara and
myself, we are that sort whom these bandits never frighten."

"I agree with you there," rejoined the Captain, "certainly I do--
meanwhile--nevertheless--I should prefer--ah! who is that horseman who
is galloping in this direction, carbine in hand?"

"If one may judge the master by the servant, and if this fellow chances
to have a master, that master ought to be one of the greatest rogues on
earth."

As Costal was delivering this figurative speech, he stretched forth his
hand and seized hold of his own old and trusty piece.

The horseman in question was no other than Gaspacho--the courier who had
brought to Arroyo the evil news from the hacienda Del Valle.

He rode forward as one rides in a conquered country; and without making
any obeisance addressed himself to the Captain--who, from being a white,
appeared to him the most considerable of the three strangers.

"Tell me, friend--" said he.

"Friend!" cried Costal, interrupting him, and evidently ill pleased with
his looks, "a captain in the army of General Morelos is no friend to
such as you."

"What does this brute of an Indian say?" demanded Gaspacho, regarding
Costal with an air of contempt.

The eyes of Costal fairly blazed with rage; and his movements promised
for Gaspacho a terrible chastisement, when Don Cornelio interposed to
prevent it. "What is your wish?" asked he