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Updated: June 4, 2025
Uraga does not complete the response at least not till after taking several whiffs at his weed. "On what?" asks the impatient subordinate. "Many matters circumstances, events, coincidences." "May I know what they are. You promised to tell me, colonel." "I did in time. It has not yet come. One thing I may now make known. When we leave this camping-place we shall take no prisoners along with us."
Almost as soon the two officers get astride, Roblez on his own charger, the mustang mare being left to Uraga. From her mistress he must part thus unceremoniously, covered with ignominious shame! The thought is torture, and for a time stays him. A dire, damnable purpose flashes across his brain, and for an instant holds possession of his heart.
Under the dread of a common danger, the white doncella and the dusky damsel forget the difference in the colour of their skins; and for the first time feel themselves sisters in the true sisterhood of humanity. Simultaneous with the scene in the square marquee a dialogue is taking place within the conical tent, the speakers being Uraga and Roblez.
Up to this time Uraga has presumed him to be a perfect stranger, but when the broad brim of the sombrero no longer casts its shade over his face, and his eyelids become elevated through increasing confidence, the colonel starts to his feet with an exclamatory speech that tells of recognition. "Carrambo! You are Manuel mule driver for Don Valerian Miranda?"
Meantime the Liberals were everywhere assuming an aggressive attitude. Guadalajara had fallen into the hands of General Uraga. About this time an important convoy from Matamoros, under the escort of Colonel Olvera's Mexican force, sixteen hundred strong, and of an Austrian regiment, was attacked by Liberal forces. The officer in charge of the Austrian forces was then in the capital.
His thoughts are now given to a new design. Murder by proxy has failed. For all that, it must still be done. To take counsel with his adjutant about the best mode of proceeding, he hastens back to the camp; plunges into his tent; and there becomes closeted the lieutenant along with him. For the disaster that was overtaken the Tenawa chief and his warriors, Gil Uraga does not care a jot.
Leaving the body of Barbato to be devoured by wolves and vultures, they spur on along the Pecos, only drawing bridle to breathe their horses as the trail turns up at the bottom of a confluent creek the Arroyo de Alamo. Discomfited chagrined by his discomfiture burning with shame at the pitiful spectacle he has afforded to his followers Uraga returns within his tent like an enraged tiger.
After crossing the Pecos, Uraga separated his troop into two parties. For some time he has sent the main body, under command of his alferez, direct to Albuquerque, himself and the adjutant turning north with the captives and a few files as escort and guard.
On arriving at its edge, which they do before their followers, Uraga and Roblez see the tracks of the two mules. Not without surprise, and they exchange some words regarding them. But the fast-darkening sky drives the subject out of their thoughts, and they occupy themselves in choosing a spot for pitching the tents.
"Go to the stables," commands his master, "or the corral, or wherever he may be, and tell Pedrillo I want him. Be quick about it!" The man bows and disappears. "It will take them how many days to reach the Tenawas' town, and how many back to the Pecos?" soliloquises Uraga, pacing the floor, as he makes his calculations. "Three, four, five. No matter. If before them we can wait till they come.
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