quired about his wound. He reddened slightly when he told me it had quite healed, and hurriedly asked me if I had counted the cost of traveling with him. I assured him it was my unalterable intention to accompany the convoy to Vera Cruz. Don Blas affected much joy at my resolution, after which the conversation fell quite naturally upon the dangers of the road, the mishaps of which I thought I should escape in his company. The captain shook his head.
"I am not so sure of that," said he. "I fear that you are jumping from the frying-pan into the fire, for the late troubles have increased the number of guerillas.[1] And folks say that we shall probably have a hard fight with the highwaymen in the gorges of the Amozoque. The time is gone by when, under a certain viceroy, the standard of Castile, floating above a silver caravan, was sufficient to protect it in its passage."
"I hope," I replied, "that the troop of lancers under your command will make up for the want of the Spanish flag."
"God grant it!" returned Don Blas. "Although I am not blind to the dangers we shall have to run, I shall do my duty in every case."
The long file of richly-laden mules, each having a burden of five thousand dollars in coined money, over every one of which the guardians of the convoy kept an incessant watch, was, in fact, a prize worth striking a blow for. The road to Mexico presents the most striking scenes incident to beauty in landscape, but the thick woods, the deep gorges, and the narrow de files which we had to traverse might be swarming with robbers. I had scarcely passed a few hours among
- ↑ Bands of robbers.
