The whip again whistled through the air, and came down upon the back of the wretched sufferer, without producing any other manifestation than a deep groan. It is scarcely necessary to say that the victim of this barbarous treatment was Don Fernando Lacarra. The words of Arroyo have already made this known to the reader. Perfectly indifferent to the spectacle, Gaspacho, having introduced his prisoner to the presence of Arroyo, walked out of the room. As regards Don Cornelio, he stood where the robber had left him, paralysed with horror. Independently of the compassion he felt for the sufferer, he was under the suspicion that both Costal and Clara had already perished, and that his own turn might come next. While these fearful reflections were passing through his mind, a man whom he had not before noticed now came up to him. This was an individual with a jackal-like face, and the skulking mien of that animal, with all its ferocious aspect. "My good friend," said this man, addressing himself to Don Cornelio, "you appear somewhat lightly clad for one who is about to present himself before people of distinction." Lantejas, in reality--thanks to the bandits who had captured him--was almost naked: a torn shirt and drawers being all the clothing they had left him. "Senor Captain,"--said he, addressing the jackal-like individual, and intending to account for the scantiness of his costume. "Stop," interrupted the other, "not _captain_. Call me Colonel of Colonels, if you please. It is a title which I have adopted, and no one shall deprive me of it." "Well then, Colonel of Colonels! if your people had not robbed me of my broad cloth cloak, my hat of Vicuna wool, and various other articles of clothing, you would not have seen me so lightly dressed. But it is not only that which grieves me. I have other serious complaints to make--" "The devil!" exclaimed the Colonel of Colonels, without heeding the last remarks. "A broad cloth cloak and Vicuna hat, did you say? Two things of which I stand particularly in need. They must be recovered." "I have to complain of violence offered to my person," continued Don Cornelio. "I am called Lantejas--Captain Lantejas. I serve the junta of Zitacuaro, under the orders of General Morelos; and I bear from him a commission, of which the proofs--" A sudden thought interrupted the speech of Don Cornelio--a terrible thought, for it just now occurred to him that his despatches, his commission as captain, his letters of credence--in short, all the papers by which he could prove his identity--were in the pockets of the stolen cloak! "Ho!" exclaimed the Colonel of Colonels, in a joyful tone, "you call yourself Lantejas, do you? I am delighted to hear it, and so will our captain be. It is the luckiest circumstance in the world for us, and for you, too, as you shall presently be convinced. Look here!"