On comprehending the situation of affairs, Don Cornelio sprang to his feet; and, passing the decoy sentinel, ran on at full speed towards the walls of the town—where his Indians had already preceded him.
Seeing his captain clear through the lines, Costal flung away the shako and musket of the soldier, and hastened after.
Soon overtaking Don Cornelio, he cried out, “Quicker, run quicker, Señor Captain! The others will give the alarm as soon as they have missed their comrade!”
As he spoke, he caught Don Cornelio by the wrist, and dragged him along at such a rate that the Captain was scarce able to keep upon his feet.
In a few seconds they reached the line of the Mexican sentries, who, already warned of their approach by the Indians, permitted them to enter the town without opposition. On entering the Piazza they encountered Trujano himself; who, with his sword girded on, was making a round of the village before retiring to rest.
While Don Cornelio was delivering to him the message of Morelos, the Colonel directed scrutinising glances both upon the Captain and his Indian companion. He had some vague recollection of having once before seen the two men, but he could not remember where. At the moment that Don Cornelio finished speaking, his recollection had become more clear upon the point, “Ah!” exclaimed he, “I was thinking where I had met you. Are you not the young student who had such confidence in the mandate of the Bishop of Oajaca, and who, at the hacienda of Las Palmas, denounced the insurrection as a deadly crime?”
“The same,” answered Lantejas, with a sigh.
“And you,” continued Trujano, addressing himself to Costal, “are you not the tiger-hunter of Don Mariano de Silva?”
“The descendant of the caciques of Tehuantepec,” answered Costal proudly.
“God is great, and his ways are inscrutable,” rejoined the ex-muleteer, with the inspired air of a prophet of Judah.