These he was tying into a plume.

Having accomplished this, he put spurs to his horse, and, galloping up
to the front of the stand, he bent gracefully forward, and deposited the
trophy at the feet of _Catalina de Cruces_!

A murmur of surprise ran through the crowd, and sharp censure followed
fast. What! a cibolero,--a poor devil, of whom nothing was known,
aspire to the smiles of a rico's daughter? It was not a compliment. It
was an insult! Presumption intolerable!

And these critiques were not confined to the senoras and senoritas. The
poblanas and rancheros were as bitter as they. These felt themselves
slighted--passed by--regularly jilted--by one of their own class.
Catalina de Cruces, indeed!

Catalina--her situation was pleasant, yet painful--painful, because
embarrassing. She smiled, then blushed, uttered a soft "_Gracias,
cavallero_!" yet hesitated a moment whether to take up the trophy. A
scowling father had started to his feet on one side, on the other a
scowling lover. The last was Roblado.

"Insolent!" cried he, seizing the plume, and flinging it to the earth;
"insolent!"

Carlos bent down from his saddle, once more laid hold of the plume, and
stuck it under the gold band of his hat. Then, turning a defiant glance
upon the officer, he said, "Don't lose your temper, Captain Roblado. A
jealous lover makes but an indifferent husband." And transferring his
look to Catalina, he added with a smile, and in a changed tone,
"Gracias, senorita!"

As he said this he doffed his sombrero, and, waving it gracefully,
turned his horse and rode off.

Roblado half drew his sword, and his loud "Carrajo!" along with the
muttered imprecations of Don Ambrosio, reached the ears of the cibolero.
But the captain was far from brave, with all his swagger; and seeing
the long _machete_ of the horseman strapped over his hips, he vented his
spite in threats only, and suffered Carlos to depart.

The incident had created no small excitement, and a good deal of angry
feeling. The cibolero had roused the indignation of the aristocracy,
and the jealousy and envy of the democracy; so that, after all his
brilliant performances, he was likely to leave the field anything but a
favourite. The wild words of his strange old mother had been widely
reported, and national hatred was aroused, so that his skill called
forth envy instead of admiration. An angel indeed, should he have been
to have won friendship there--he an Ameri