"Tut!" said the Franciscan; "I am traveling incog.; I shall tell you why some other time."
"Good," said I to the monk; "I have something to ask you which interests me as much."
"You are one of ourselves," cried the officer, "and we are going to conduct you to a place out of Mexico, where we intend to finish the Holy Week."
"Where is it?" I inquired.
"You will know when you get there," replied the hidalgo. "I know you are a lover of adventures: well, I promise you some, and of a strange enough kind."
This was taking me on my weak side, and I accepted the offer without troubling myself any farther as to its whereabouts. I was, besides, in full traveling costume; and an excursion by night was, above all, highly agreeable to me. We alighted, and threaded our way through the crowd; then leaving it, we struck along the Candelaria road, and, remounting, pursued a northerly direction. I fell behind the rest and joined Fray Serapio, and again renewed my inquiries about his disguise. On our first acquaintance the monk seemed to my taste too shy and distrustful, but I soon hit upon a sure way of stripping him of these unsocial qualities. I feigned to make the Christian virtues of my venerable friend the theme of my warm admiration; and Serapio, who had the high ambition, a singular one in a monk, of passing for a rake, replied to my eulogiums by some revelations about the old monk which did not redound greatly to his credit. At this time, too, the expedient succeeded as it ordinarily did. The Franciscan assured me, with a contrite air, that he had put on this disguise by the will of God!
