Arroyo returned to examine his prisoner, but by this time the whole nature of Don Cornelio appeared to have become suddenly transformed. The perfumes of the alcohol, mixed with that of the resin torches, had mounted to his head; and as he had never in his life even tasted strong liquors, the effect was that of a partial but instant intoxication. He appeared to have become animated with a portion of that courage, with which in the field of battle the flaming eyes of Galeana had more than once inspired him--while combating under the aegis of the marshal's death-dealing lance. "Senor Arroyo!" cried he in a voice whose thundering tones astonished even himself, "and you who call yourself the Colonel of Colonels! I command you both to respect the envoy of his Excellency the General Morelos--myself--who am charged to tell you, that if you continue, by your sanguinary cruelties, to disgrace the holy cause for which we fight--not as brigands but as Christians--you will both be _drawn and quartered_!" At this unexpected and insulting menace the eyes of Arroyo sparkled with fury. Upon Bocardo the effect was somewhat different. He trembled and turned pale at the name of Morelos. Lantejas, though somewhat alarmed at his own boldness, nevertheless continued in the same strain. "Bring here the negro and Indian!" demanded he, "prisoners like myself-- and see if both do not know me as Captain Don Cornelio Lantejas. If they do not I consent--" At this point Arroyo interrupted the speaker, springing forward and crying out in a husky voice-- "Woe be to you if you are lying! I will pluck the tongue out of your head, and scourge with it the cheeks of an impostor." Lantejas, now elevated in spite of himself to a point of haughty grandeur, replied to this menace only with a superb smile. Clara being sent for, the moment after appeared within the room. "Who is this man, dog of a negro?" interrogated the fierce brigand. This time too punctual in executing the orders of his captain, the black displayed his ivory teeth in a smile of significant intelligence. "Don Lucas Alacuesta, of course!" he replied. A cry of gratification issued from the lips of the bandit. "But there is another name which I also bear, is there not?" inquired Don Cornelio, without losing countenance. "Don Cornelio Lantejas," added Clara. "The proofs--the proofs!" cried the guerillero, pacing rapidly backward and forward, like a caged tiger who sees the spectators outside the bars of his prison without being able to devour them, "the proofs!--I must have them at once."