"Friends!" replied Don Blas.
"Que gente?" asked the same voice.
"Mexico!" was the lieutenant's reply. He demanded, in his turn, where the division had come from.
"From Cordova," answered the same voice.
The troop passed, and we remained in the same place. A little after, a second troop, and then a third, came in sight, and made the same replies, and afterward continued their march to Mexico. I saw nothing, however, in these men but ordinary travelers, for there was little in their bearing that betokened them as regular troops, when some distant lights sparkled in the midst of the fog, and I fancied I heard repeated vivas; this was another band advancing. In the centre, and clearly seen by the light of the torches, rode two officers on fiery horses, in the costume of country gentlemen—half military, half civilian. The superior officer had a physiognomy and mien which struck me forcibly, and awoke in my mind a feeling of curiosity and vague remembrance. He was a man apparently about forty-five years of age, of a lofty and commanding aspect, and swarthy complexion. A high forehead, which his hat but imperfectly concealed, and a rounded chin, perhaps too large for the perfect regularity of his features, denoted obstinacy and resolution; a nose slightly aquiline, great black eyes full of expression, and flexible lips, stamped him with an air of haughty nobility; his strong black curly hair flowed over his temples, and shaded his high cheek-bones. I remarked, also, that his bridle hand was mutilated.
Don Blas made a gesture of surprise, and, scarcely giving himself time to reply to the countersign which was asked of him, bounded toward the officer on horseback.
"Your excellency ought not to forget that we are within a short distance of Mexico," said he, uncovering respectfully, "and prudence requires that you come no nearer."
"Ah! is it you, Captain Don Blas?" said the cavalier, stopping his horse; "I am very glad to see you among us." Then, addressing himself to his cortège, "You know well, señores," said he, "that the pleasure I feel in finding myself once more among you has caused me to forget my own safety; but the time is not far distant, I hope, when I shall come again, and find there," pointing to Mexico, "none but brothers and friends."
After this speech he wheeled his horse half round, and I could see that it was a wooden leg which rested in the right stirrup. A general hurrah followed his last words. The torches were hurled far into the lake, and went out with a hiss, and all again was dark, but not before I had recognized in the cavalier who was conversing with Don Blas the man who for twenty-five years had been the evil genius of Mexico, the cause and fomenter of all its revolutions—in one word, General Don Antonio Lopez Santa Anna.