So we started, I leaning on her shoulder and hopping on my right foot, and thus very painfully we traversed some three hundred yards meeting nobody. But now our good luck failed us, for passing round the corner of some buildings, we came face to face with three soldiers returning to their huts from a midnight revel, and with them some native servants. “Whom have we here?” said the first of these. “Your name, comrade?” “Good-night, brother, good-night,” I answered in Spanish, speaking with the thick voice of drunkenness. “Good morning, you mean,” he said, for the dawn was breaking. “Your name. I don’t know your face, though it seems that you have been in the wars,” and he laughed. “You mustn’t ask a comrade his name,” I said solemnly and swinging to and fro. “The captain might send for me and he’s a temperate man. Your arm, girl; it is time to go to sleep, the sun sets.” They laughed, but one of them addressed Otomie, saying: “Leave the sot, my pretty, and come and walk with us,” and he caught her by the arm. But she turned on him with so fierce a look that he let her go again astonished, and we staggered on till the corner of another house hid us from their view. Here I sank to the ground overcome with pain, for while the soldiers were in sight, I was obliged to use my wounded foot lest they should suspect. But Otomie pulled me up, saying: “Alas! beloved, we must pass on or perish.” I rose groaning, and by what efforts I reached the south gate I cannot describe, though I thought that I must die before I came there. At last it was before us, and as chance would have it, the Spanish guard were asleep in the guardhouse. Three Tlascalans only were crouched over a little fire, their _zerapes_ or blankets about their heads, for the dawn was chilly. “Open the gates, dogs!” I said in a proud voice. Seeing a Spanish soldier one of them rose to obey, then paused and said: “Why, and by whose orders?” I could not see the man’s face because of the blanket, but his voice sounded familiar to me and I grew afraid. Still I must speak. “Why?—because I am drunk and wish to lie without till I grow sober. By whose orders? By mine, I am an officer of the day, and if you disobey I’ll have you flogged till you never ask another question.” “Shall I call the Teules within?” said the man sulkily to his companion. “No,” he answered; “the lord Sarceda is weary and gave orders that he should not be awakened without good cause. Keep them in or let them through as you will, but do not wake him.”