his servant, who accompanied him, informed me, and, if you are a swift horseman, you may overtake him, if you are so very desirous to know his name."
"What was the color of their horses?"
"Iron-gray and peach-blossom."
A ride of some hours before dinner could not but be salutary. Before setting out in pursuit of the stranger, I went home in order to ask some more questions of Cecilio, my valet, about my visitant. This lad had been already several years in my service, and his round chubby face, with an air at once hypocritical and simple, reminded me strongly of Ambrosio of Lamela in Gil Blas. As I expected, he gave me a very unsatisfactory description of the unknown. I then disclosed to Cecilio my intention of setting out immediately for Cuantitlan, ordering him at the same time to saddle our horses with all speed. Cecilio tried to convince me that, in an affair of so delicate a nature, it were best if I went alone, but I reiterated my order, and he left the room to execute my commands. As I was going to travel in the country, I donned my Mexican costume, and went down into the court in all haste. I remarked, without surprise, that my serape had been attached to the back of my saddle. My pistols were in their holsters; and I also carried a lance with a scarlet pennon, heavily shod with iron, which I was accustomed, when traveling, to have fixed to my right stirrup. A sabre hung from Cecilio's saddle-bow, and a tolerably well-packed valise was fixed to the croup of his horse. I asked him why he was making such preparations, as we were only going out for a short ride; but his only answer was, that the environs of Mexico were infested by robbers.
We set out. The travelers we were in pursuit of
