In the corners of the room and leaning against the walls here and there were weapons enough to have armed half a company of militia, if the soldiers did not care what kinds of weapons they were to carry, for the guns and swords and pistols were of all patterns except those of the present day. Ned saw at least one rusty firelock, which put him in mind of pictures he had seen of the curious affairs the New England fathers carried when they went to meeting on Sunday. He had no time to examine them, however, for here were his new clothes, and he must be in them without delay. He admired each piece, as he put it on, and then one look into the senor's mirror convinced him that he was completely disguised. He had been turned into a somewhat stylish young Mexican, from his broad-brimmed straw hat to his Vera Cruz made shoes. He still wore a blue jacket, but this one was short, round-cornered, and had bright silver buttons. His new trousers were wide at the bottoms, with silver-buttoned slashes on the outsides below the knees. He had not worn suspenders on shipboard, but now his belt was of yellow leather and needlessly wide, with a bright buckle and a sword-catch on the left side. As to this matter, the senor showed him a short, straight, wide-bladed sort of cutlas, which he called a machete. "That is to be yours," he said. "You need not carry it in town, but you will as soon as we get away. You will have pistols, too, and a gun. It won't do to go up the road to Oaxaca unarmed. Now you may make the best of your way to the consul's, and I'll stay here to finish getting ready." He appeared to be laboring under a good deal of excitement, and so, to tell the truth, was the disguised young American. Out he went into the hall, trying hard to be entirely collected and self-possessed, but it was only to be suddenly halted. Before him stood the stately Senora Tassara, and clinging to her was the very pretty Senorita Felicia, both of them staring, open-eyed, at the change in his uniform. The senorita was of about fourteen, somewhat pale, with large, brilliant black eyes, and she was a very frank, truthful girl, for she exclaimed: "Oh, mother, do look at him! But it does not make a Mexican of him. He's a gringo, and he would fight us if he had a chance. I want them all to be killed!" "No, my dear," said the senora, with a pleasant laugh. "Senor Carfora will not fight us. He and his ship brought powder for Colonel Guerra and the army. I am sorry he must leave us. You must shake hands with him." "Oh, no!" said the wilful Felicia, spitefully. "I don't want to shake hands with him. He is one of our enemies." "No, I'm not!" stammered Ned. "But did you know that our ship was wrecked in the norther? If you had been on board of her when she went ashore, you would have been drowned. The men in the life-boat had a hard time in getting ashore. I'm glad you were at home."