"Change my dress?" the Tigrero exclaimed. "Diablos! you ought to have told me so at your house."
"Unnecessary, my dear sir. I have all you require here."
"Here?"
"Well, you shall see," he said, as he took from one of the coach pockets a Franciscan's gown, while from the other he drew a pair of sandals and a cord. "Have you not worn this dress before?"
"I have."
"Well, you are going to put it on again, and for the following reasons: At the convent, people believe (or pretend to believe, which comes to the same thing) that you are a Franciscan monk. For the sake, then, of persons who are not in the secret, it is necessary that I should be accompanied by a monk, and more, that they may be able, if required, to take their oaths to the fact."
"I obey you. But will not your coachman be surprised at seeing a Franciscan emerge from the carriage into which he showed a caballero?"
"My coachman? Pardon me, but I do not think you looked at him?"
"Indeed, I did not. All these Indians are alike, and equally hideous."
"That is true; however, look at him."