“Enough! Sergeant, pick up your sword, and hereafter do not brawl with strangers--at least not until I have conversed with them. And you, _señor_, be kind enough to be seated, and tell me your name and station and why you travel El Camino Real. You came from the north?” “_Si, señor_--from San Francisco de Asis.” “And you are going----?” “To San Diego de Alcalá.” “’Tis a long, dusty journey at this time of the year. Your business is----?” “Mine own, _señor_, and it please you!” “Have a care! I do not question you through impertinence, but through a sense of duty.” “My business is of no particular consequence in so far as you are concerned, _señor_. I have here a pass signed by his excellency that perhaps will quiet your fears.” He took a folded document from his cloak and handed it over. The ensign, frowning, took it and spread it open. He read it through, then looked at the caballero again. “It is, in truth, his excellency’s signature and seal, and tells all officers the bearer is to be allowed to proceed unmolested and given aid if he asks it,” the ensign admitted. “Yet the pass does not name you, _señor_.” “I am aware that it does not.” “I am Ensign Sanchez, _señor_. May I have the pleasure of knowing you?” “Man to man, I am glad to make your acquaintance. As for the name--does it matter? You may call me Felipe, or Juan--whatever pleases you.” “It is highly irregular.” “Is the pass irregular, _señor_? You know the times, I take it. Can you conceive a reason why a gentleman might not wish his name cried aloud for all men to hear?” “Ah! If you are on business of his excellency’s----” “Let us have no misunderstanding or false pretense, _señor_. I have not said that I am on business of state. I have said merely that I hold his excellency’s pass, and that you are bound to honour it.” The ensign rose and bowed; and he was smiling. “So be it!” he replied. “I am glad to welcome you to Santa Barbara. Your business, I perceive, is indeed your own. Command me, if there is anything you desire.” “Your men have given me food and drink, _señor_, thank you and them. I was forced to walk into the post because of an attack of bandits----” “How is this?” “My Indian was slain, also my horse. I managed to drive off the thieves and reach here afoot. I wish to continue my journey immediately. So my only request, _señor_, will be for a good horse, for which I stand ready to pay.” Ensign Sanchez threw up his hands in a gesture of despair. “Ask me for a fortune, _señor_; ask me to turn traitor to his excellency! Either would be forthcoming sooner than a good horse at this moment. Not a horse worthy of the name can you find now at Santa Barbara. In a day, say, or two, by sending out to some rancho, I may be able to get you one, but none are here now except decrepit brutes I would not ask a gentleman to mount.” “This is almost past belief!” the caballero said.