ace of Vizcarra kept constantly changing. That
villain was more interested in the conversation than his guests were
aware, and he had already formed his plans. Already his agents were out
on the accomplishment of his atrocious designs.

The transition from the cibolero's sister to the other belles of the
place, and to the subject of woman in general, was natural; and the
company were soon engaged in their original conversation, which, under
the influence of additional wine, grew more "racy" than ever.

The scene ended by several of the party becoming "boracho;" and the
night being now far advanced, the guests took their leave, some of them
requiring to be conducted to their homes. A soldier apiece accompanied
the cura and padres, all three of whom were as "drunk as lords;" and it
was no new thing for them.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

The Comandante, with his friend Roblado, alone remained in the room, and
continued the conversation with a fresh glass and cigar.

"And you really think, Roblado, that the fellow had encouragement. I
think so too, else he would never have dared to act as he did."

"I am quite sure of it now. That he saw her last night, and alone, I am
certain. As I approached the house I saw a man standing before the
reja, and leaning against the bars, as if conversing with some one
inside. Some friend of Don Ambrosio, thought I.

"As I drew nearer, the man, who was muffled in a manga, walked off and
leaped upon a horse. Judge my surprise on recognising in the horse the
black stallion that was yesterday ridden by the cibolero!

"When I entered the house and made inquiries as to who were at home, the
servants informed me that master was at the _mineria_, and that the
Senorita had retired, and could see no one that night!

"By Heaven! I was in such a passion, I hardly knew what I said at the
moment. The thing's scarce credible; but, that this low fellow is on
secret terms with her, is as sure as I am a soldier."

"It does seem incredible. What do you mean to do, Roblado?"

"Oh! I'm safe enough about her. She shall be better watched for the
future. I've had a hint given to Don Ambrosio. You know my secret well
enough, colonel. Her _mine is my loadstone_; but it is a cursed queer
thing to have for one's rival such a fellow as this! Ha! ha! ha!"

Roblado's laugh was faint and unreal. "Do you know," continued he,
striking on a new idea, "the padre don't like the guero family. That's
ev