on the first opportunity. I can tell you that this will be a service with which the country will be as well pleased as your devoted friend and servant,
Q. S. M. B.,[1]
"Blas P.
"P.S.—On reflection, if you will bring the ounce of gold yourself, it will be better; and, to imitate the devotion of those friends whose story has made such an impression upon me, I offer you my sword."
I thought, as the lieutenant did, that the ounce of gold would have a greater chance of coming into his hands if I carried it myself.
"Where is your officer?" I inquired of the soldier.
"At the Guadaloupe gate."
"It is a pity," I said, "that the oracion has sounded, as we can not now ride thither."
"If it is the intention of your lordship to accompany me, as my captain said you might," the messenger replied, "he recommended you to go on foot."
In spite of the great honor that would accrue to me by rendering this service to the Mexican nation, I could not hide from myself that I would have the worst of it in this chivalrous exchange of purse and sword. However, the desire of knowing from the mouth of Don Blas how much I ought to fear the resentment of the bravo with whom chance had brought me acquainted, determined me not to allow this opportunity to escape. I took time only to throw a cloak over my shoulders, and hide my pistols under my coat. I then set out, followed by the soldier. Still, I took care, while passing through the town—which became more and more solitary as we approach-
- ↑ Que sus manos besa.—Lit., he who kisses your hands.
