At sunrise he woke. At the same moment the peon who seemed appointed to wait on him entered his room and announced that if he were ready all the preparations were made. Oliver asked to take leave of the master and mistress of the house; but, on being told that they could not receive anybody, he followed his guide without asking him any further questions. The latter led him through several yards, took passages different from those by which the hunter had entered the hacienda, and took him out on the opposite side to the one by which he had come in. After crossing the drawbridge the hunter turned as if to say good-bye to the guide, but the latter told him that he had orders to accompany him to the spot where the horses were, and they descended the hill by a track quite as rough as the one by which the Canadian had ascended on the previous day. On the opposite bank of the river, three horsemen, armed with long lances, one of whom held the hunter's horse by the bridle, were waiting motionless, ready to start at the first signal. In the leader of this little party the Canadian recognized with some degree of pleasure Diego López, who was relatively an old acquaintance. When they had crossed the moat, López came to meet them. "Here is the man," said the peon. "Very good," Diego López answered laconically. "You know what you have to do?" "I do." "In that case, good-bye." And he then turned to the hunter, who had mounted by this time. "A pleasant journey, Señor Forastero," he said, with a mocking accent most offensive to the Canadian. "Shall we start, señor?" Diego asked the hunter. "Whenever you please," said the latter, as he drew up by the side of his guide. They started at a gallop, and remained silent for a long time. "Are we very far from Leona Vicario?" the hunter at length asked, feeling wearied of this silence and disposed to talk with his comrade. "No!" the latter answered. "Well, you are no great talker, my friend," the Canadian continued. "What is the good of talking when you have nothing to say, especially when in the company of a heretic?" "A heretic!" the adventurer said, "Hang me if that is true." "Are you not an Englishman?" "I? Not a bit of it." "All strangers are Englishmen," Diego López, said, sententiously. "How famously you fellows are taught. It is curious enough." "And all Englishmen are heretics," the peon continued, calmly. "Be kind enough to tell me," the hunter said, with a grin, "who teaches you all these pretty things?" "Why should I tell you?" "For two reasons. In the first place, for my personal satisfaction; and next, for my instruction." "It is our priests." "Ah! Very good. I thank you. Why, my friend, if it cause you any pleasure, learn first that I am not an Englishman but a Canadian, which is not at all the same thing; next, not only that I am no heretic, but at the least quite as good a Catholic as yourself, I flatter myself."