There was silence for a few minutes, as each was busy with his own thoughts regarding the probable resurrection of Xuarez. After the battle of Centeotl, he had vanished utterly from the face of the earth. It was thought he had fled to Janjalla, or perchance to Acauhtzin; but in neither of those towns could he be discovered. After a bombardment of five hours, the latter city had surrendered to the warships. Don Josè, the Governor, in the absence of Xuarez, had been killed by the bursting of a bomb, and many of his officers had shared the same fate. Of Xuarez, however, nothing could be discovered, and Don Miguel was much disturbed thereat. With a restless spirit like the rebel leader still working in secret, the danger was not yet at an end, and the President was determined to spare no effort to bring Xuarez, to justice. While the four friends were thinking over this matter, Don Rafael, who had been holding a private conversation with his father, entered the patio. That young man was the hero of the bombardment of Acauhtzin. He had recovered Doña Carmencita; his father had consented to his speedy marriage with that lady, and he was idolised by his fellow-citizens. With all this good fortune, he should have been gay and lighthearted; but as he entered the patio, he certainly looked anything but happy. "Dios! What ails you, Rafael?" asked Jack, as his friend threw himself into a seat, and sighed heavily. "Anything wrong?" "Carambo! Everything is wrong. My father refuses his consent to our marriages." "What?" interrupted Philip and Jack, in dismay. "Till Xuarez is discovered and punished," finished Rafael, dismally. "Ah!" said Philip, with a breath of relief, "it might have been worse. I thought you were about to say Don Miguel had refused his consent altogether." "Dios! I don't know if it does not amount to that," replied Rafael, shrugging his shoulders. "How are we to find this ladron of a Xuarez? He is not at Acauhtzin. He is not in the south. Where then are we to look for him?" "Can you not find out?----" "I can find out nothing, mi amigo. For my part, I believe he is dead." "For my part, Señor Rafael, I believe he is alive," retorted Tim, gruffly. "Eh! And where do you think he is to be found, Señor Correspoñsal?" "Quien sabe," said Tim, carelessly. "But you know, Señor, that after the battle of Centeotl, I rode to Janjalla, to wire my report to England?" "Yes." "While there, I heard two prisoners talking. They, deeming me to be a foreigner, and not knowing that I was conversant with Spanish, spoke freely." "Bueno! And they said?----" "Nothing about Don Hypolito, but talked of Pepe." "Pepe!" echoed Philip, quickly. "The zambo who decoyed Dolores from Tlatonac--the lover of Marina?"