poor old Rodriguez--who nursed you when a child--
pray--"

The sufferer could speak no more, even in whispers. His head fell back
upon the turf. He was dead. When the litter was set down in the
courtyard of Las Palmas it carried only a corpse! Don Rafael had turned
back for his horse, and to bid a hasty adieu to the family of his host.

"If Costal were only here!" said Don Mariano. "Unfortunately the brave
fellow is gone away. Only a few hours ago he came to take his leave of
me, with another of my people--a negro whom I had no great fancy for.
Both, I believe, are on their way to join the insurgent army in the
capacity of scouts or guides. _Hola_!" continued the haciendado,
shouting to one of the _peons_, "send hither the _mayor-domo_!"

This functionary soon made his appearance; not a house steward--as the
name might seem to imply--in white cravat, stockings, and powdered wig;
but, on the contrary, a strapping energetic fellow, dressed in full
_ranchero_ costume, with a pair of spurs upon his booted heels, whose
enormous rowels caused him to walk almost upon his toes, and with long
black hair hanging to his shoulders like the manes of the half-wild
horses he was accustomed to ride. Such is the _mayor-domo_ of a Mexican
hacienda, whose duties, instead of confining him to the dwelling-house,
consist in the general superintendence of the estate, often equal in
extent to the half of a county. It is, therefore, necessary for him to
be a man of the most active habits, a first-class rider, ever in the
saddle, or ready to leap into it at a moment's notice. Such was the
personage who presented himself in obedience to the summons of Don
Mariano.

"Give orders," said the latter, addressing him, "to my two vaqueros,
Arroyo and Bocardo, to saddle their horses and accompany Senor Don
Rafael!"

"Neither Arroyo nor Bocardo can be found," replied the mayor-domo. "It
is eight days since I have seen either of them."

"Give each of them four hours in the _xepo_ (stocks), as soon as they
return!"

"I doubt whether they will ever return, Senor Don Mariano."

"What! have they gone to join Valdez, think you?"

"Not exactly," replied the mayor-domo; "I have my suspicions that the
brace of worthies have gone to get up a guerilla on their own account."

"Summon Sanchez, then!"

"Sanchez is laid up in bed, Senor Don Mariano. He has some bones broken
by a wild horse--that he had mounted for the first time--having reared