And battling with his sabre, the valiant Comandante at length effected a
retreat to his horse.

He was already well torn about the legs, but, covered by the sergeant,
he succeeded in getting into the saddle.

The latter fired off both his pistols at the dog, but the bullets did
not take effect; and the animal, perceiving that his enemies outnumbered
him, turned and ran back into the house.

The dog was now silent, but the Comandante, as he sat in his saddle,
heard a derisive laugh within the rancho. In the clear soft tones of
that jeering laughter he distinguished the voice of the beautiful guera!

Chagrined beyond measure, he would have besieged the rancho with his
troop, and insisted on killing the dog, had he not feared that the cause
of his ungraceful retreat might become known to his followers. That
would be a mortification he did not desire to experience.

He returned, therefore, to the troop, gave the word to march, and the
cavalcade moved off, taking the backward road to the town.

After riding at the head of his men for a short while, Vizcarra--whose
heart was filled with anger and mortification--gave some orders to the
sergeant, and then rode off in advance, and in full gallop.

The sight of a horseman in blue manga, passing in the direction of the
rancho--and whom he recognised as the young ranchero, Don Juan--did not
do much towards soothing his angry spirit. He neither halted nor spoke,
but, casting on the latter a malignant glance, kept on.

He did not slacken his pace until he drew bridle in the saguan of the
Presidio.

His panting horse had to pay for the bitter reflections that tortured
the soul of his master.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

The first thing which Rosita did, after the noise without had ceased,
was to glide forth and peep through the cactus-fence. She had heard the
bugle again, and she wished to be sure that the intruders were gone.

To her joy, she beheld the troop some distance off, defiling up the
valley.

She ran back into the house and communicated the intelligence to her
mother, who had again seated herself, and was quietly smoking her pipe
of _punche_.

"Dastardly ruffians!" exclaimed the latter. "I knew they would be gone.
Even an old woman and a dog are enough. Oh, that my brave Carlos had
been here! He would have taught that proud Gachupino we were not so
helpless! Ha! that would Carlos!"

"Do not think of it any more, dear mother; I don't think they wil