And with a hideous laugh she walked out of the tent to give place to Gaspacho, who the next moment entered.
The courier thus named had all the appearance of an original character. He was tall and thin as the blade of a rapier, with a cynical expression of countenance, and long snaky tresses of hair hanging down over his shoulders, like thongs of smoked leather.
“Speak!” commanded Arroyo, as he entered. “Thou bearer of evil tidings, what have you to tell us now?”
“Perhaps, Señor Captain,” responded the brigand, who, notwithstanding his habitual air of importance, was evidently cowed by the scowl of his superior, “perhaps I have some good news as well?”
“First, then, deliver your bad ones!”
“Well, then, Señor Captain, there are not enough of us to take this hacienda by assault. The den of coyotes has proved stronger than we expected; and I am sent to ask for a reinforcement of men.”
“Who has sent you?—Lieutenant Lantejas?”
“Lieutenant Lantejas will never send another message. This morning his head was nailed over the gate of the hacienda along with that of Sergeant Yañez.”
“Tripes of the fiend!” exclaimed the guerilla leader, “Yañez, too!”
“Their heads are not the only ones, Captain. Besides them are those of Salinas and Tuerto, to say nothing of Matavidas, Sacamedios, and Piojento, who were taken prisoners and hung alive by the feet from the parapet of the building. We had to fire at them and kill them with our carbines, in order to put an end to their sufferings.”