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Updated: May 11, 2025
I wonder the fair Catalina does not give her preference to him. Who can tell that she does not? A Mexican dame does not carry her soul upon her sleeve, nor upon her tongue neither. It would be a task to tell of whom Catalina is thinking just now. It is not likely at her age she is twenty that her heart is still her own; but whose? Roblado's? I would wager, no. Garcia's? That would be a fairer bet.
A feat of greater interest occupied the attention of the spectators. Carlos, seated in his saddle, was silent for a while. He seemed puzzled for a reply. The manner of the two officers, as well as Roblado's speech, stung him.
A gleam of joy shot over the features of the cibolero not at the announcement, though Vizcarra thought so; but at his observation of the fact that the latter seemed to be now alone upon the azotea. Roblado's face was not above the wall. "It is exceedingly gracious of your excellency to grant this favour to an humble individual like myself. I know not how to thank you."
And the speaker broke into a hoarse laugh, in which the Comandante as well as the sergeant joined; and then all three, without waiting for a reply, turned and went out, ordering the door to be locked behind them. The visit, as well as Roblado's speech, astonished and puzzled Carlos. For some minutes he sat reflecting upon it. What could it mean? A spectacle, and he to be a spectator?
The captain halted in the plaza, with a few men those in charge of the recovered captive. The remainder of the troop passed on to the Presidio. Roblado's object in stopping in the town, or in coming that way for it did not lie in his return route was threefold.
Yes, they've had time enough to get round; that is, if they started soon after Roblado's interview. The boy thinks they did. By Heaven! it's not too soon for me to be on the alert." As this thought passed through the cibolero's mind, he reined up his horse; and, lowering his head, glanced along the neck of the animal into the darkness before him.
"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.
Roblado's eloquence, combined with his own vile desires, overruled the slight opposition of his superior; and, once entered on the affair, the latter found himself highly amused in carrying it out.
What spectacle but that of his own execution? What could it mean? For a time he sat endeavouring to make out the sense of Roblado's words. For a good while he pondered over the speech, until at length he had found, or thought he had found, the key to its meaning. "Ha!" muttered he; "Don Juan it is he! My poor friend! They have condemned him, too; and he is to die before me.
Roblado's arrival brought relief to Vizcarra, as he lay chafing and fretting. Their conversation was, of course, upon the late occurrence, and Roblado gave his account of the pursuit. "And do you really think," inquired the Comandante, "that the fellow had a party of savages with him?" "No!" answered Roblado.
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