him. On the contrary,
as he approached the _cuartel_, he saw strange sights, and heard sounds
corresponding. Everything was in confusion--soldiers rushing to and
fro, uttering seditious cries. Among these were "Viva Santa Anna!"

"Viva el General Armijo!"

"Viva el _Coronel_ Uraga!"

Beyond doubt it was a _pronunciamento_. The old regime under which
Colonel Miranda held authority was passing away, and a new one about to
be initiated.

Drawing his sword and putting spur to his horse, he dashed in among the
disaffected men.

A few of the faithful ran up, and ranged themselves by his side.

Then commenced a struggle, with shouting, shooting, sabring, and
lance-thrusts. Several fell--some dead, some only disabled; among the
last, Colonel Miranda himself, gravely wounded.

In ten minutes it was all over; and the commandant of Albuquerque, no
longer commanding, lay lodged in the garrison _carcel_; Captain Gil
Uraga, now colonel, replacing him as the supreme military officer of the
district.

While all around ran the rumour that Don Antonio Lopes de Santa Anna was
once more master of Mexico; his satellite, Manuel Armijo, again Governor
of Santa Fe.

CHAPTER FIVE.

"WHY COMES HE NOT?"

"What delays Valerian? What can be keeping him?"

These questions came from Adela Miranda, on the evening of that same
day, standing in the door of her brother's house, with eyes bent along
the road leading to Albuquerque. Valerian was her brother's baptismal
name, and it was about his absence she was anxious.

For this she had reasons--more than one. Though still only a young
girl, she quite understood the political situation of the Mexican
Republic; at all times shifting, of late more critical than usual. In
her brother's confidence, she had been kept posted up in all that
transpired in the capital, as also the district over which he held
military command, and knew the danger of which he was himself
apprehensive--every day drawing nigher and nigher.

Shortly after his leaving her she had heard shots, with a distant murmur
of voices, in the direction of the town. From the _azolea_, to which
she had ascended, she could note these noises more distinctly, but
fancied them to be salutes, vivas, and cheers. Still, there was nothing
much in that. It might be some jubilation of the soldiery at the
ordinary evening parade; and, remembering that the day was a _fiesta_,
she thought less of it.

But, as night drew down,