ding, and paused to return the bow which he
made to us over the gallery rail. Another exchange of bows from the edge
of the beautiful flower-and-shrub-embowered court, and we at last
escaped out through the tunnel-like passage to the great gate.

Passing through the wicket into the street, which was lit up by the red
glare of a resin torch, we found ourselves face to face with Father
Rocus and Lieutenant Don Jesus Maria de Gonzales y Medina. The
aide-de-camp bowed stiffly and stared from Walker to myself with a
glance of fiery jealousy. I gave him a curt nod, and hastened to grasp
the proffered hand of the beaming padre.

"God be with you, my son!" he exclaimed.

"My thanks for the kind wish, padre!" I replied "I see you are coming to
call upon my friend Senor Vallois."

"Your friend!" muttered Medina, for I had spoken in French.

"My friend," I repeated. "I had the pleasure of meeting Don Pedro in my
own country. But now, senor, with regard to our misunderstanding this
morning, I wish to express my regrets and to explain that the error was
committed through inadvertence."

"Ah--if you apologize," he said, with a complacent half-sneer.

"You mistake me, senor. I do not apologize. I merely explain."

He turned, without answering, and swaggered in through the archway.

"You _Americanos_!" protested Father Rocus, reaching up to lay a hand
upon my shoulder. "Can you never be prudent? Medina is a swordsman. Your
friend here will tell you that out of five duels, the aide has to his
credit three deaths on the black record of Satanas."

"If he is a swordsman, I am a pistol shot," I rejoined.

"Then all turns upon the chance of who challenges and who has choice of
weapons. God grant the choice fall to you! He is in strong need of a
lesson."

"That is true!" muttered Walker, with a shrug.

"Meantime, my son, it will be well for you to consider the peril of your
soul and come often to the _Parroquia_ to hear me preach," admonished
the padre. He spoke in a severe tone, but I fancied I caught a twinkle
in his eye as he turned to enter the gate.

Walker took me familiarly by the arm, and as we sauntered back to his
quarters, first inquired particularly as to my skill with the pistol,
and then went into the details of Medina's duels. Before he had finished
I divined that he and others of the officers at Chihuahua would be more
than pleased to see some one trim the comb of the braggadocio
aide-de-camp. If an outsider co