el was quickly able
to assure himself. It even had, as we shall soon see, not one, but two,
serpents to torment its inhabitants.

These had been divided from time immemorial into two parties--"those of
the Casona" and "those of the Casina," thus named because the first met
in a great, dark mansion with two machiolated towers, which stood at the
upper end of the village, while the others met in a one-storied and
highly ornamented edifice with a handsome portal with an iron grating
and two great balconies, and was situated on the Muelle by the river.

They were likewise called "Don Martin's Party" and "Don Servando's,"
after the name of their respective leaders.

The division of these parties was not based upon the fact that the one,
that of the Casona, represented the traditional and conservative
element, while that of the Casina stood for the progressive and liberal,
the first having often been seen taking the side of "liberal
administrations," and the other sustaining the cause of the "moderate"
candidate. The quarrel was kindled solely by the eagerness for
controlling local politics, and thus of being in last analysis the
masters of the village. The rest was not of the least consequence.
Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that Don Martin's party had marked
tendencies towards absolutism. In Don Servando's, on the other hand,
there was no noticeable predilection for liberty.

It was this Don Servando, who, as Miguel alighted from the diligence and
received him, took him home, willy nilly. He was a fat man of medium
height, and was approaching his seventieth birthday; his face, with its
deep red complexion, was adorned with short gray whiskers; he wore a
very long, black frock coat, and black _hongo_ besides.

"Have I the honor of addressing Senor Corcuera," he asked him very
politely, with a strong Galician accent.

"No, sir; my name is Miguel Rivera, at your service."

"That is very good," the Galician replied, and addressing himself to a
servant, he said: "_Muchacho_, look up the gentleman's luggage, and take
charge of it. I will tell you where it has to be carried."

"I suppose that you are Senor Bustelo," Miguel hastened to say.

"We will have a chance to talk as we go around yonder corner. You will
do me the favor to follow me."

And Don Servando set forth with firm and deliberate step toward the
corner indicated. Miguel followed him without understanding what it all
meant.

When they had reached there,