Although the bugle had played
continuously, announcing the approach of a troop--although the recovered
captive was placed conspicuously in the ranks--and although his
(Roblado's) horse, under the influence of sharp spurs, pitched himself
into the most superb attitudes, all went for nothing--Catalina did not
show in the balcony! Among the faces of "dependientes" and "criados,"
hers was not to be seen; and the triumphant look of the victorious
leader, as soon as he had ridden past, changed to a gloomy expression of
disappointment.

A few minutes after, he dismounted in front of the "Casa de Cabildo,"
where he delivered the girl into the hands of the alcalde and other
authorities of the town. This ceremony was accompanied by a
grandiloquent speech, in which an account of the recapture was given
with some startling details; sympathy was expressed for the parents of
the girl, _whoever they might be_; and the speaker wound up by
expressing his opinion that the unfortunate captive could be no other
than the young girl reported to have been carried off a few days before!

All this was very plausible and proper; and Roblado, having resigned his
charge to the keeping of the alcalde, mounted and rode off amidst a
storm of complimentary phrases from the authorities, and "vivas" of
applause from the populace.

"_Dios lo pague, capitan_!" (God reward you, captain!) was the prayer
that reached his ears as he pushed through the crowd!

A keen physiognomist could at that moment have detected in the corner of
Roblado's eye a very odd expression--a mingling of irony with a strong
desire to laugh. In fact, the gallant captain could hardly keep from
bursting out in the faces of his admirers, and was only restrained from
doing so by the desire of keeping the joke bottled up till he could
enjoy it in the company of the Comandante--to whom he was now hastening.

Back to the captive.

The crowd pressed around her, all eager to gratify their curiosity.
Strange to say that this feeling predominated. There was less
appearance of sympathy than might have been looked for under the
circumstances. The number of those that uttered the "pobrecita!"--that
tender expression of Mexican pity--was few; and they were principally
the poor dark-skinned native women. The well-dressed shopkeepers, both
Gachupinos and Criollos, both met and women, looked on with
indifference, or with no other feeling than that of morbid curiosity.

Such an indiffer