Reverently they lifted the body, put it upon a horse, and marched back in sadness to the presidio.
In the meanwhile, Don Torribio was greatly disconcerted. His plans had failed. He had not wished the governor to lose his life, for his death would be no benefit, but, on the contrary, prejudicial, by inspiring the Mexicans with the desire for revenge, and strengthening their determination to resist to the last, and bury themselves under the ruins of the presidio, rather than surrender to such ferocious enemies. His intention had been to seize Don José, keep him prisoner, and to make his own terms with the Mexicans.
But the old soldier's energetic resistance, and resolve to blow out his own brains rather than surrender, had upset these plans. So he returned to the camp, cast down and discontented, while his companions looked upon the cause of his dejection as a triumphant success.
Manuela and Doña Hermosa had profited by his absence to throw off their disguise, and resume their usual dress.
As soon as Don Torribio reached his toldo, the sorcerer, who had never quitted it since he had led the two women to the spot, came forward to meet him.
"What do you want?" said Don Torribio.
"Let my father look with a favourable eye upon me," replied the amantzin; "two women have entered the camp tonight."
"And what is that to me?" said the chief impatiently.
"These females, although dressed like Indians, are white," answered the sorcerer, laying stress on the last two words.
"What then? They are most likely wives of some of the vaqueros."