scarcely gone more than half way when I was brought to a stand-still by a very disagreeable circumstance. A turnpike gate stood half way between Mexico and San Augustin. Just as I came within sight of it, I made the disagreeable discovery that I had not the real necessary for passing me through the gate. Wishing to give myself time for reflection, I walked my horse slowly along, but the fatal turnpike came always nearer and nearer. I was just going to turn my horse's head round and gallop back, when by chance the Franciscan who had cleaned me out came up. The lucky winner addressed me most politely, and I replied in the most courteous manner. He offered to accompany me to Mexico; and the secret hope of being able to pass the gate at the Franciscan's expense doubtless made me accept his offer with so much alacrity. I fancied that I was doing no more than an act of politeness in congratulating my companion on his run of good luck. But what was my surprise when he exclaimed, with a sigh, "Confound it! I was quite cleaned out down there; I have nothing—nothing but my debts. I must say that I counted upon you to pass me through."
I confessed that I was just about to beg the same favor of him. Upon this the Franciscan fell into such convulsions of laughter that, in spite of myself, I could not help joining him heartily. We then deliberated what course to pursue. We hit upon several ludicrous expedients, but they were rejected one after the other. After some discussion, we decided that it would be best to clear the turnpike at a gallop without paying. "We will pay double the next time we pass," said the monk. Having thus disposed of this case of conscience, he spurred his steed; I followed.
