erhaps have been to seek out one of
Zumalacarregui's aides-de-camp, relate to him his recent adventures,
produce Rita's letter in corroboration of his veracity, and request him
to forward it, or provide him with a horse to take it himself. But
although this plan occurred to him, the gain in time appeared
insufficient to compensate for the risk of meeting Don Baltasar whilst
searching for the aide-de-camp, and of being by him thrown into prison
and deprived of the letter.

The day had been most sultry, and Paco had walked, with but a ten
minutes' halt, from sunrise till afternoon. Overcome by fatigue and
drowsiness, he had no sooner decided on his future proceedings, and
emptied his quartillo, events which were about coincident, than his head
began to nod and droop, and after a few faint struggles against the
sleepy impulse, it fell forward upon the table, and he slept as men
sleep after a twelve hours' march under a Spanish sun in the month of
June. During his slumbers various persons, soldiers and others, passed
in and out of the room; but there was nothing unusual in seeing a
soldier dozing off his wine or fatigue on a tavern table, and no one
disturbed or took especial notice of him. Paco slept on.

It was evening when he awoke, and rose from his bench with a hearty
stretch of his stiffened limbs. As he did so, he heard the sound of
footsteps in the street. They ceased near the window, and a dialogue
commenced, a portion of which reached his ears.

"Have you heard the news?" said one of the speakers.

"No," was the reply, in a voice that made Paco start. "I am now going to
Eraso's quarters to get them. I am told that a courier arrived from
Durango half an hour since, covered with foam, and spurring as on a life
or death errand."

Whilst this was saying, Paco noiselessly approached the window, which
was large and square, about four feet above the street, and closed only
by a clumsy shutter, at that moment wide open. Crouching down, he
cautiously raised his head so as to obtain a view of the street, without
exposing more than the upper part of his face to the possible
observation of the persons outside. What he saw, confirmed the testimony
of his ears: two officers in staff uniforms stood within twenty paces of
the window, and in the one who had last spoken, Paco recognised Don
Baltasar. His face was towards the tavern, but his eyes were fixed upon
his interlocutor, who replied to his last observation--

"On an