"As the time for the starting of the expedition drew nigh, the various plans and schemes became the theme of nightly discussion; and we heard of nothing but guides and trails, where grass was to be found for the cattle, and where water could be had, with significant hints about certain places and people who were known or believed to be inimical to these excursions. Thus, on the map, were marked certain villages which might be put under contribution, and certain log-houses which should be made to pay a heavy impost: here, it was a convent to be mulcted; and there, a store or a mill to be burned! In fact, the expedition seemed to have as many vengeances to fulfil as hopes of gain to gratify; for each had a friend who was maltreated, or robbed, or murdered, and whose fate or fortunes required an expiation.--But I weary you, Padre, with all this?" "Not at all, my son; I recognize perfectly the accuracy of your account. I have heard a good deal about these people." "There was one individual, however, so universally detested that you would suppose he must have been a kind of devil incarnate to have incurred such general hate. Every one had a grudge against him, and, in fact, there was a kind of struggle who should be allotted to wreak on him the common vengeance of the company. It was at last decided that his fate should be lotteried, and that whoever won the first prize--this mare of which you may have heard--should also win the right to finish this wretched man. I gained this infamous distinction; and here am I, on my way to claim my prize and commit a murder! Ay, I may as well employ the true word,--it is nothing less than a murder! I have not even the poor excuse of revenge. I cannot pretend that he ever injured me,--nay, I have not even seen him; I never heard of his name till two days ago; nor, even now, could I succeed in finding him out, if I were not provided with certain clews at Houston, and certain guides by whose aid I am to track him. My oath is pledged: I swore it solemnly that, if the lot fell upon me, I 'd do the deed, and do it I will; yet, I am equally resolved never to survive it."--Here I produced my revolver.--"If this barrel be for the unlucky Chico, this other is for myself!" "What name did you say?" cried he, with a faltering voice, while his hand, as he laid it on my arm, shook like ague. "Chico, the wretch is called," I said, fixing a cap on my pistol. "And why call him a wretch, my son? Has he ever injured you? How do you know that he is not some poor, kindly hearted creature, the father of five children, one of them a baby, perhaps? How can you tell the difficulties by which he gains his living, and the hazard to which he exposes his life in doing so? And is it to injure such a man you will go down to your own grave an assassin?" "I'll do it," said I, doggedly; "I'll keep my oath." "Such an oath never bound any man; it is a snare of Satan."