"I don't think the lady seemed over angry withal," remarked a blunt young fellow, who sat near the lower end of the table.

A chorus of voices expressed dissent from this opinion. Roblado's was the loudest.

"Don Ramon Diaz," said he, addressing himself to the young fellow, "you certainly could not have observed very carefully on that occasion. I who was beside the lady know that she was filled with disgust--" (this was a lie, and Roblado knew it), "and her father--"

"Oh, her _father_, yes!" cried Don Ramon, laughing. "Any one could see that _he_ was angry--that was natural enough. Ha! ha!"

"But who is the fellow?" inquired one.

"A splendid rider," replied Don Ramon. "The Comandante will admit that." And the free speaker looked at Vizcarra with a smile of intelligence. The latter frowned at the observation.

"You lost a good sum, did you not?" inquired the cura of Vizcarra.

"Not to him," replied the Comandante, "but to that vulgar fellow who seems his friend. The worst of it is, when one bets with these low people there is no chance of getting a _revanche_ at some other time.

One cannot meet them in the ordinary way."

"But who is the fellow?" again inquired one.

"Who? Why, a cibolero--that's all."

"True, but is there nothing about his history? He's a _gilero_, and that is odd for a native! Is he a Criollo? He might be a Biscayan."

"Neither one nor the other. 'Tis said he's an Americano."

"Americano!"

"Not exactly that--his father was; but the padre here can tell all about him."

The priest thus appealed to entertained the company with some facts in the history of the cibolero. His father had been an Americano, as it was supposed--some stray personage who had mysteriously found his way to the valley and settled in it long ago. Such instances were rare in the settlements of New Mexico; but what was rarer still, in this case the "Americano" was accompanied by an "Americana"--the mother of Carlos--and the same old woman who attracted so much attention on the day of San Juan. All the efforts of the padres to christianise either one or the other had been in vain. The old trapper--for such he was--died as he had lived--a blaspheming "heretico;" and there was a general belief in the settlement that his widow held converse with the devil. All this was a scandal to the Church, and the padres would long since have expelled the guero family, but that, for some reason or other, they were protected by the old Comandante--Vizcarra's predecessor--who had restrained the zealous priests in their good intention.

"But, caballeros!" said the padre, glancing towards Vizcarra, "such heretics are dangerous citizens. In them lie the seeds of revolution and social disturbance; and when this guero is at home, he is seen only in the company of those we cannot watch too closely: he has been seen with some of the suspected Tagnos, several of whom are in his service."

"Ha! with them, indeed!" exclaimed several. "A dangerous fellow!--he should be looked after."

The sister of the cibolero now became the subject of conversation; and as remarks were made more or less complimentary to her beauty, the expression upon the face of Vizcarra kept constantly changing. That villain was more interested in the conversation than his guests were aware, and he had already formed his plans. Already his agents were out on the accomplishment of his atrocious designs.

The transition from the cibolero's sister to the other belles of the place, and to the subject of woman in general, was natural; and the company were soon engaged in their original conversation, which, under the influence of additional wine, grew more "racy" than ever.

The scene ended by several of the party becoming "boracho;" and the night being now far advanced, the guests took their leave, some of them requiring to be conducted to their homes. A soldier apiece accompanied the cura and padres, all three of whom were as "drunk as lords;" and it was no new thing for them.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

The Comandante, with his friend Roblado, alone remained in the room, and continued the conversation with a fresh glass and cigar.

"And you really think, Roblado, that the fellow had encouragement. I think so too, else he would never have dared to act as he did."

"I am quite sure of it now. That he saw her last night, and alone, I am certain. As I approached the house I saw a man standing before the reja, and leaning against the bars, as if conversing with some one inside. Some friend of Don Ambrosio, thought I.

"As I drew nearer, the man, who was muffled in a manga, walked off and leaped upon a horse. Judge my surprise on recognising in the horse the black stallion that was yesterday ridden by the cibolero!

"When I entered the house and made inquiries as to who were at home, the servants informed me that master was at the _mineria_, and that the Senorita had retired, and could see no one that night!

"By Heaven! I was in such a passion, I hardly knew what I said at the moment. The thing's scarce credible; but, that this low fellow is on secret terms with her, is as sure as I am a soldier."

"It does seem incredible. What do you mean to do, Roblado?"

"Oh! I'm safe enough about her. She shall be better watched for the future. I've had a hint given to Don Ambrosio. You know my secret well enough, colonel. Her _mine is my loadstone_; but it is a cursed queer thing to have for one's rival such a fellow as this! Ha! ha! ha!"

Roblado's laugh was faint and unreal. "Do you know," continued he, striking on a new idea, "the padre don't like the guero family. That's evident from the hints he let drop to-night. We may get this fellow out of the way without much scandal, if the Church will only interfere. The padres can expel him at once from the settlement if they can only satisfy themselves that he is a 'heretico.' Is it not so?"

"It is," coldly replied Vizcarra, sipping his wine; "but to expel _him_, my dear Roblado, _some one else_ might be also driven off. The rose would be plucked along with the thorn. You understand?"

"Perfectly."

"That, then, of course, I don't wish--at least not for the present.

After some time we may be satisfied to part with rose, thorn, bush, roots, and all. Ha! ha! ha!"

"By the way, colonel," asked the captain, "have you made any progress yet?--have _you_ been to the house?"

"No, my dear fellow; I have not had time. It's some distance, remember.

Besides, I intend to defer my visit until this fellow is out of the way. It will be more convenient to carry on my courtship in his absence."

"Out of the way! what do you mean?"

"That the cibolero will shortly start for the Plains--to be gone, perhaps, for several months, cutting up buffalo-beef, tricking the Indians, and such-like employments."

"Ho! that's not so bad."

"So you see, querido camarado, there's no need for violence in the matter. Have patience--time enough for everything. Before my bold buffalo-hunter gets back, both our little affairs will be settled, I trust. You shall be the owner of rich mines, and I--"

A slight knock at the door, and the voice of Sergeant Gomez was heard, asking to see the Comandante.

"Come in, sergeant!" shouted the colonel. The brutal-looking trooper walked into the room, and, from his appearance, it was plain he had just dismounted from a ride.

"Well, sergeant?" said Vizcarra, as the man drew near; "speak out!

Captain Roblado may know what you have to say."

"The party, colonel, lives in the very last house down the valley,--full ten miles from here. There are but the three, mother, sister, and brother--the same you saw at the fiesta. There are three or four Tagno servants, who help the man in his business. He owns a few mules, oxen, and carts, that's all. These he makes use of in his expeditions, upon one of which he is about to start in three or four days at the furthest.

It is to be a long one, I heard, as he is to take a new route over the Llano Estacado."

"Over the Llano Estacado?"

"Such, I was told, was his intention."

"Anything else to say, sergeant?"