A corporal came running at the sentry’s cry; he aided the soldier to half-carry, half-drag Cassara toward the barracks-room, in the door of which the _comandante_ was standing, attracted by the sudden uproar. Sergeant Cassara had no time now for the niceties of discipline; his salute was merely the suggestion of one, and he gripped the lieutenant by the arm to keep from falling as the corporal let go of him. “Private information--from the north!” he managed to gasp. Cassara was known the length of El Camino Real as a soldier of strength and hardihood, and to see him in this state told the _comandante_ that unusual things were happening. He grasped his inferior around the waist and helped him to get to a private room, where the sergeant sank upon a stool and threw his arms on the table before him to brace himself. The lieutenant offered a cup of wine and Cassara tossed it off, trying to gather breath enough to speak. With a wave of his hand the lieutenant ordered the other soldiers from the room, then closed the door. “Now, what is it that brings the famous Sergeant Cassara to our post like a dying man?” he demanded. “An uprising--greater than any we have yet known! It has just been discovered, barely in time.” “Gentiles, I suppose?” “And neophytes!” “What? Neophytes, too--against the missions? Or is it against the presidio only?” “It is against every white man, woman and child in every mission, presidio and rancho,” the sergeant said. “Perhaps even now it is too late to prevent the success of the thing. It has been planned with diabolical cunning. Every post will be attacked simultaneously, every white man slain except a few chosen frailes and a few renegades.” “Renegades?” “The ones who have plotted the thing. This is no murderous raid planned by a few disgruntled gentiles. It is the greatest thing we yet have had to endure, I tell you! Here--I have written orders for you! The Governor is coming down El Camino Real with a force. We in the north are prepared and ready, but here in the south difficulties are expected. Here is the hotbed of mutiny at present--and here one of their leaders!” “Their leader--here?” “Your orders! You see the first? Get him, dead or alive, sparing no effort, and promotion is yours! Get him if you would not have this post wiped off the face of the earth! Get him--Captain Fly-by-Night!” “Fly-by-Night!” the _comandante_ exclaimed. “The smoothest renegade unhung! He is the brains of the thing! For months he has been at work planning it, and half that time he was an associate of the Governor, playing at cards and dice with him, drinking and eating with him. He even came south recently with a Governor’s pass in his belt. At Santa Barbara we gave him refreshments, the cur! And when he won a mule from another traveller and continued his journey south--in haste he was, mark you!--we were even pleased to think he had won. May the good saints let me face him with blade in hand again!” “Again?”