"Jesus Maria! Mercy, gracious Senor!" stammered the unfortunate wretch. "Ah! if my poor mother, who lives at the corner of the Plateria, could"---- "We will tell her of it, Senoria," interrupted the hangman, in almost a feeling tone; "and she will perhaps be able to get you an _indulgencia plenaria_--for we have no confessors here. It is short work with us, particularly since the rack is done away with. But for twenty dollars she can get the best of indulgencias. They are cheap since the rebellion." The poor fellow listened to this speech, his head bent towards the speaker in an attitude of attention; but he did not seem to understand. He slivered like an aspen leaf; for he now stood nearly naked upon the cold, damp stones. "Jesus Maria!" whimpered the lad, "what is it you want with me? I only went to accompany my young master. How could poor Cosmo help it? We begged and prayed of him--Maestro Alonzo, Pedro, and I--that he would not interfere when Major Ulloa charged the _gente irracionale_. Jesus! how cold it is!" "You will soon be warm, Senor," quoth the executioner. "In our hands, the coldest grows warm. There--take that!" And he handed him, one after the other, the garments which the alguazil had taken off the other prisoner. The unfortunate creature caught at them, and slipped them on with a haste that had something shocking in it. On a sudden, he left off dressing himself, passed his hands over the fur trimmings and gold embroidery of the jacket, and exclaimed, in a trembling voice--"Holy Virgin! they are my master's clothes!" For a moment he stood shivering, with the jacket in his hand. "Quick, Senor!" cried the executioner; "time is short." The prisoner put his arm mechanically into the sleeve of the jacket. The hangman helped him on with it, threw the short cloak over him, and placed him hastily in the cell which had been so recently vacated. He had scarcely done so, when the sound of a bell was heard from the adjacent vault. Alguazil and executioner listened for a moment, and then hurried through a corridor, in the direction whence the summons proceeded. After a couple of minutes, they returned, accompanied by the alcalde, and by a person muffled in a blue cloak.[21] The two latter carried dark lanterns. "Executioner, do your duty!" said the alcalde. "No. 3." The executioner disappeared in the inferniello; the clank of chains was heard, and he again emerged from the den, bringing with him the unfortunate prisoner. "_Por el amor de Dios!_" implored the latter. "Cosmo will do any thing, confess every thing"-- "He raves," interrupted the alcalde. "Jesus Maria," groaned Cosmo again. "We begged, we entreated him not to fire at Major Ulloa. Never in my life will I again take a trabuco in my hand." "That voice!"----exclaimed the cloaked figure-- "Is altered," hastily interposed the alcalde. "The poor fellow has lost voice, reason, and courage. But it is always so."