ll be expecting you,
as I hinted to them to stay at home--that possibly they might be wanted.
No doubt you'll find them there at this moment."

"When can you send up the guide?"

"He is here now--my own attendant will do. He is below in the court--
you need lose no time."

"No. Roblado," added the Comandante, "your horse is ready--you cannot
do better than go at once."

"Then go I shall: your guide, padre?"

"Esteban! Hola! Esteban!" cried the padre, leaning over the wall.

"_Aqui, Senor_," answered a voice.

"_Sube! sube! anda_!" (Come up quickly.)

The next moment an Indian boy appeared upon the azotea, and taking off
his hat approached the padre with an air of reverence.

"You will guide the capitan through the path in the chapparal to the
hunters' hut."

"Si, Senor."

"Don't tell any one you have done so."

"No, Senor."

"If you do you shall catch the `cuarto.' _Vaya_!"

Roblado, followed by the boy, descended the escalera; and, after being
helped on his horse, rode away from the gate.

The padre, at the invitation of Vizcarra, emptied another cup of
Bordeos; and then, telling his host that a luncheon of the new luxury
awaited him at the mission, he bade him good day, and shuffled off
homeward.

Vizcarra remained alone upon the azotea. Had any one been there to
watch him, they would have noticed that his countenance assumed a
strange and troubled expression every time his eyes chanced to wander in
the direction of La Nina.

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

Roblado entered the chapparal, the boy Esteban stepping a few paces in
advance of his horse's head. For half-a-mile or so he traversed a
leading road that ran between the town and one of the passes. He then
struck into a narrow path, but little used except by hunters or vaqueros
in search of their cattle. This path conducted him, after a ride of two
or three miles, to the base of the cliffs, and there was found the
object of his journey--the dwelling-place of the hunters.

It was a mere hut--a few upright posts supporting a single roof, which
slanted up, with a very slight inclination, against the face of the
rock. The posts were trunks of a species of arborescent yucca that grew
plentifully around the spot, and the roof-thatch was the stiff loaves of
the same, piled thickly over each other. There was a sort of rude door,
made of boards split from the larger trunks of the yucca, and hung with
strong straps of _parfleche_, or thick buff