"Not much," replied the spokesman of the party. "Only to nail your head in the place of that of Lantejas." "Lantejas!" exclaimed Don Cornelio, inspired with a fresh hope. "That is my name. It is I who am the insurgent Lantejas, sent here to Oajaca, by General Morelos." The declaration was received with a burst of savage laughter. "_Demonio_!" cried one of the guerilleros, coming up with the horse of Don Cornelio, "I have had trouble enough in catching this accursed brute. It is to be hoped he carries something to repay me for it." Don Cornelio fancied he knew the tone of this voice, but he had no time to reflect upon where he had heard it, before its owner again cried out, "_Alabado sea Dios_! (Blessed be the Lord!) there is my cloak!" Don Cornelio recognised the man who the day before had taken such a fancy to his cloak. In a word, the speaker was Gaspacho. "What a lucky fellow I am to meet you again," continued the brigand; "that cloak is much too large for you. I told you so yesterday." "Such as it is, it satisfies me," meekly responded the Captain. "Oh! nonsense," rejoined Gaspacho, at the same time throwing off his own tattered scrape, and making a significant gesture to Don Cornelio to uncloak himself. The latter hesitated to comply with this rude invitation; but almost on the instant Gaspacho snatched the garment from his shoulders, and coolly wrapped it round his own. "Now, amigo," cried one of Gaspacho's confreres, "surely a man without a head has no need of a hat? Yours appears as if it would just fit me," and saying this, the bandit picked the hat from Don Cornelio's head, at the same time flinging his own battered sombrero to the ground. As there was nothing more upon the person of the prisoner to tempt the cupidity of the brigands, the lazo was unloosened from around his arms, and he was ordered to accompany his captors to the hacienda. This he did willingly enough: for the presence of Gaspacho told him that he was in the hands of the guerilleros of Arroyo. "Can I see the Captain?" he inquired. "What Captain?" "Arroyo." "Ah! you wish to see him?" responded Gaspacho. "That rather surprises me. You shall have the pleasure of seeing him soon enough, I fancy. Come along!" The guerilleros continued on to the house, conducting their prisoner along with them. As they drew near to the walls, the attention of Don Cornelio was again attracted to the singular lights that seemed to be burning within the house. It could not be the flame of a conflagration, else the building would long since have been consumed. A few minutes brought them up to the gate. It was shut, and one of the men knocked against it with the hilt of his sabre, at the same time giving utterance to a password, which Don Cornelio did not understand. What he did comprehend was, that the moment had come when, _bon gre mal gre_, he was called upon to acquit himself of the commission with which Morelos had entrusted him.