"Why, señor, should you not go to the residence of Don Tadeo de Leon, my master?"
"Pardieu!" cried Valentine, vexed at his own want of thought. "On my word, you are something like a guide! I do not go to Don Tadeo, because, simply, I don't know how to find the place, that's all."
"I know, señor; Don Tadeo is most likely at the cabildo."
"By Jove! that's true again; my powers of thought seem to have been driven out of my head; but which is the way to the cabildo?"
"I will show you, señor."
"That's well! this is an intelligent lad. Let us be moving, my friend."
"Forward, then!" cried the arriero. "Ea! arrea mula!" he shouted to his beasts.
In a few minutes they debouched upon the Plaza Mayor, opposite the cabildo. The city was still and silent; here and there traces of the sanguinary contest of the preceding day, heaps of broken furniture, or large trenches cut in the ground, gave evidence of the ravages caused by the insurrection. A soldier was marching with slow steps in front of the cabildo. At sight of the little party, he stopped, and cocked his musket.
"Who goes there?" he shouted sharply.
"La Patria!" Valentine replied.