"He will send me to Chihuahua!" I exclaimed.
"I fear as much, señor. There can be little doubt that General Salcedo will order you before him."
"Quien sabe?" I muttered, affecting a doleful tone. My fear had been that I might be sent the other way. A sudden thought brought my hand to my bosom. "Perdone, señor lieutenant, if I seem impertinent, but is it usual for Spanish officers to present savages with banners embroidered by the ladies?"
He stared at me blankly. "Embroidered banners?"
"I chanced to visit that Pawnee town some three weeks after yourself. Examining the flag you left, I observed upon its lower corner—"
"Ah!" he interrupted, "I comprehend. The flag from Señorita Vallois. But I assure you, Señor Robinson, it was the lady's own whim. She requested me to fly her banner at the point where I should make nearest approach to your settlements."
"Ah!" I exclaimed, in turn, masking my delight with difficulty. "So your Spanish señoritas still send out their knights errant bearing their colors."
"True," he replied. "Yet you mistake in part. It was not Señora Malgares who gave me the banner in question, but her friend, Señorita Vallois."
"Vallois?" I repeated;—"Vallois? That is a French name."
"No less is it Spanish, señor; though it is in point that my friend Don Pedro claims descent from French royalty. One can well believe the claim in the presence of his niece."