The messenger drew from the pocket of his jaqueta a small packet done up in a leaf of maize, inside which he had prudently concealed the letter. Unfolding the leaf, he handed the note to Don Rafael, whose hand visibly trembled on taking it.
In vain did he attempt to dissemble his emotion under the studied air of coolness with which he received the letter, which he permitted to remain unopened.
This letter, thought he, should be from Gertrudis; and he dwelt on the voluptuous pleasure he was about to enjoy while reading it alone.
“Well, Julian,” said he, after a pause, “anything else have you to tell me of?”
“Yes, your Honour; the most important of all. Arroyo, Bocardo, and their bandits have returned to the neighbourhood; and Lieutenant Veraegui has charged me to say to you—”
“Arroyo! Bocardo!” interrupted Don Rafael, all at once re-awaking from his sweet dreams to thoughts of vengeance. “Tell Lieutenant Veraegui to give double rations to his horses, and get them ready for a campaign. Say that in two or three days I shall be with him, and we shall enter upon it. The last assault upon Huajapam is to be made this very day, and the place must either fall, or we raise the siege. I shall then obtain leave from the Commander-in-chief, and by the Virgin! I shall capture these two ruffians, or set the whole province on fire. Vaya, Julian!”
Julian was about to depart, when Don Rafael’s eye, once more alighting upon the little billet which promised to yield him a moment of sweet happiness, called the messenger back to him.
“Stay a moment!” said he, looking around for his purse, “you have been the bearer of good news, Julian. Here!”
And, as he said this, he placed in the hands of the messenger an onza of gold.
Julian accepted the douceur with eagerness—not without profound astonishment at being so generously recompensed for reporting the re-appearance of Arroyo and his band! Nevertheless, his satisfaction at the perquisite far exceeded his surprise.