"For very many years I have known the Larch-tree hacienda. Owing to events too long to tell you, and which would but slightly interest you, I was resident in it for nearly a year as Major-domo. At that period the father of the present owner was still living, and for sundry reasons had the greatest confidence in me. You are aware that at the period of the conquest, when the Spaniards built these haciendas, they made them fortresses rather than farmhouses, as they were compelled to defend themselves nearly daily against the aggressions of the Redskins; now, you must know that in such a fortress there is a masked gate, a secret sally port, which, if necessary, the garrison employ, either to receive reinforcements or provisions, or to evacuate the place, should it be too closely invested."
"Oh," the Jaguar said, smiting his forehead, "can the hacienda have one of these sally ports?"
"Patience, let me go on."
"But look," the young man objected, "here is the detailed plan of the Larch-tree, made by a man whose family have lived there for three generations from father to son, and there is nothing of the sort marked on it."
The old man gave a careless glance at the plan the young man showed him.
"Because," he replied, "the secret is generally known to the owner of the hacienda alone; but let me finish."
"Speak, speak."
"These sally ports, so useful at the time of the conquest, became eventually perfectly neglected, owing to the long peace that reigned in the country; then, by degrees, as they served no purpose, the recollection of them was totally lost, and I am convinced that the majority of the hacienderos at the present day are ignorant of the existence of these secret gates in their habitation; the owner of the Larch-tree is one of the number."
"How do you know? Perhaps the gate is blocked up, or at least defended by a strong detachment."
The old man smiled.