“I send this by one of the spring caravans starting from Independence for Santa Fé, in the hope that it will safely reach you.
“I subscribe myself, dear Colonel Miranda,—
“Your grateful friend,—
“Francis Hamersley.”
“Well, teniente,” said his Colonel, as he refolded the far-fetched epistle, and returned it to the drawer, “do you comprehend matters any clearer now?”
“Clear as the sun that shines over the Llano Estacado,” was the reply of the lieutenant, whose admiration for the executive qualities of his superior officer, along with the bumpers he had imbibed, had now exalted his fancy to a poetical elevation. “Carrai-i! Esta un golpe magnifico! (It’s a splendid stroke!) Worthy of Manuel Armilo himself. Or even the great Santa Anna!”
“A still greater stroke than you think it, for it is double—two birds killed with the same stone. Let us again drink to it!”
The glasses were once more filled, and once more did the associated bandits toast the nefarious enterprise they had so successfully accomplished.
Then Roblez rose to go to the cuartel or barracks, where he had his place of sleeping and abode, bidding buena noche to his colonel.
The latter also bethought him of bed, and, taking a lamp from the table, commenced moving towards his cuarto de camara.