"The bird still sings the same tune," responded the woman; "he repeats that he is in the service of Don Mariano de Silva; and that he is the bearer of a message to that mad Colonel, as you call him, Don Rafael Tres-Villas." At this hated name the shade deepened upon the brow of the bandit. "Have you found out what this message is?" he inquired. "The fellow insists upon it that it is of no importance. What do you suppose I found in his pockets, when we were searching him?" "A vial of poison, perhaps?" "No; but something equally droll. A packet carefully put up, enclosing a small cambric handkerchief, sweetly scented with perfume, and inside this a tress of hair--a woman's hair, long and beautiful, by my faith!" "Indeed!" exclaimed Bocardo, in a significant tone; "and what have you done with it, Madame Arroyo?" "What should I have done with it?" said the virago, with a disdainful toss of her head--"what but fling it back in the face of the messenger-- the worthless thing. No doubt it is a love-token sent to this colonel of the devil." "The messenger took it back then?" "Ah, indeed--with as much eagerness as if it had been a chain of gold." "So much the better," said Bocardo, with a significant gesture. "I have an idea," he continued, "if I am not mistaken--a superb idea! With this messenger and this love-token, we can give the Colonel Tres-Villas a rendezvous, where, instead of meeting his sweetheart, he may tumble into the middle of a score of our fellows, who may take him alive without the slightest difficulty. The thing's as good as done. Only put me in communication with this messenger, and I'll answer for the rest. What say you, Arroyo? What shall we do with the Colonel Tres-Villas?" "Burn him over a slow fire--roast him alive!" responded the guerillero, with an expression of ferocious joy. "But your wife will intercede for him?" ironically added Bocardo. "_Carrambo_! Yes!" exclaimed the hag, "to burn him over the slow fire, and roast him alive--that I shall." And with a hideous laugh she walked out of the tent to give place to Gaspacho, who the next moment entered. The courier thus named had all the appearance of an original character. He was tall and thin as the blade of a rapier, with a cynical expression of countenance, and long snaky tresses of hair hanging down over his shoulders, like thongs of smoked leather. "Speak!" commanded Arroyo, as he entered. "Thou bearer of evil tidings, what have you to tell us now?" "Perhaps, Senor Captain," responded the brigand, who, notwithstanding his habitual air of importance, was evidently cowed by the scowl of his superior, "perhaps I have some good news as well?" "First, then, deliver your bad ones!" "Well, then, Senor Captain, there are not enough of us to take this hacienda by assault. The den of coyotes has proved stronger than we expected; and I am sent to ask for a reinforcement of men." "Who has sent you?--Lieutenant Lantejas?"