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Updated: June 9, 2025
He seized the weapon, and, springing beyond the circle of smoke, raised it to his shoulder. Vizcarra had reached the stairway, and was already sinking into its trap-like entrance. His head and shoulders alone appeared above the line of wall, when some half-involuntary thought induced him to stop and look back.
He was just the sort of person to be employed upon some equivocal service, and by such men as Vizcarra and Roblado; and in that way he had more than once served them. It was the soldier Jose. "Well! what have you to say? Have you seen Vicenza?" "I have, captain. Last night I met her out." "Any news?"
His eyes looked as though about to start from his head. His lips grow white, and the perspiration leaped into drops on his forehead! What could it mean? Vizcarra stood by the outer edge of the azotea that commanded a view of the road leading up to the gate of the Presidio. He was gazing over the parapet, and pointing with outstretched arm. Roblado was farther back, near the centre of the azotea.
"I am he!" answered Vizcarra, now quite recovered from his fright, "I am the Comandante. What have you to communicate, my man?" "Your excellency, I have a favour to ask;" and the cibolero again saluted with an humble bow. "I told you so," whispered Roblado to his superior. "All safe, my colonel."
They have discovered his lair, and know where he is at this moment." "Good!" exclaimed Vizcarra and Roblado. "They can find him at any time." "Excellent!" "Pues, cavalleros; that is my news at your service. Use it to your advantage, if you can." "Dear padre!" replied Vizcarra, "yours is a wiser head than ours. You know the situation of affairs. Our troopers cannot catch this villain.
This was delivered in the tone of one who is soon to ask a favour. It gave confidence to Vizcarra, as well as to the bolder villain who, notwithstanding all his assurances to the contrary, had still some secret misgivings about the cibolero's errand. Now, however, it was clear that his first conjecture was correct; Carlos had come to solicit their assistance.
He was no beauty withal nor hero either; but that did not prevent him from indulging in the fancy that he was both a combination of Mars and Apollo. He was a colonel in the Spanish army, however, and Comandante of the Presidio for the promenader in question was Vizcarra himself. Though satisfied with his own appearance, he was evidently not satisfied about something else.
He was not too humble to hope he might one day command the Presidio himself. Vizcarra's death would have given him that station at once; but Vizcarra was not to die just then, and this knowledge somewhat clouded the joy he was then experiencing. And it was joy. Garcia and he had been enemies.
Odd as was this proposition, it exactly suited the half-drunken revellers. Many were curious to have a good sight of the cibolero now so celebrated a personage. The proposal was backed by many voices, and the Comandante pressed to yield to it. Vizcarra had no objection to gratify his guests. Both he and Roblado rather liked the idea. It would be a further humiliation of their hated enemy. Enough.
Roblado, deeper in head, as well as bolder in heart, conceived it. Bringing his glass to the table with a sudden stroke, he exclaimed "Vamos, Vizcarra! By the Virgin, I have it!" "Bueno bravo!" "You may enjoy your sweetheart within twenty four hours, if you wish, and the sharpest scandalmonger in the settlement will be foiled; at least, you will have nothing to fear.
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