"Yes, quite; but that is not all. About a quarter of an hour ago, I was in the rear, as I have been generally all the march, owing to this confounded beast of mine, when two mounted cavaliers passed without seeing me, as I was concealed behind a mass of rock. One of them bestrode a magnificent black horse, and was otherwise too well equipped for a peaceable traveler."
"A magnificent black horse?" I said, interrupting him, thinking of the ranchero in Mexico who had looked so coolly on the departure of the convoy.
"The other," continued Cecilio, "rode a mule, and had the costume of a muleteer; and, if I rightly understood what they said, Victoriano must be an accomplice."
"And what became of the horsemen?"
"I have no doubt that, under cover of the darkness, they mingled with the escort. It is easy to guess why; and, probably, they are not alone, for these ravines could conceal an entire cuadrilla (band). If your lordship will be guided by me, we shall let the convoy go on without us."
"Not at all," I answered; "I must go and tell the captain."
"And who told you, señor, that the captain is not also an accomplice?"
I made no answer. It was not the time for discussion, but for acting. Without considering whether Cecilio's suspicions of Don Blas were well or ill founded, I spurred my horse to warn at least the chief arriero. With some trouble I made up to the rear guard, passed it and some of the mules, the others still forming a long line in front. In the midst of the fog I was guided by the clank of their hoofs on the rocky ground. At last I distinguished the tinkling of the leading mule a few hundred yards in advance. At the same moment I fancied I recognized in the cavalier by my side the sinister countenance of Victoriano's substitute. Some seconds after, the voice of a muleteer rose in the darkness.
"What's the meaning of this?" cried he. "Halloo! Victoriano, is that you? It is, by heavens! and by what chance?"