As Padre Joaquin walked forward on the azotea, his busy bustling air showed that he was charged with some "novedad;" and the triumphant smile upon his countenance told that he calculated upon its being of interest to those to whom he was about to communicate it. "Good day, father!--Good day, your reverence!" said the Comandante and Roblado speaking at the same time. "_Buenos dias, cavalleros_!" responded the padre. "Glad to see you, good father!" said Roblado. "You have saved me a ride. I was just in the act of starting for the mission to wait upon your reverence." "And if you had come, capitan, I could have given you a luxury to lunch upon. We have received our buffalo-tongues." "Oh! you have!" cried Vizcarra and Roblado in the same breath, and with an expression of interest that somewhat surprised the padre. "Ha! you greedy _ladrones_! I see what you would be after. You would have me send you some of them. You sha'n't have a slice though--that is, unless you can give me something that will wash this dust out of my throat. I'm woeful thirsty this morning." "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the officers. "What shall it be, father?" "Well--let me see.--Ah!--a cup of `Bordeos'--that you received by last arrival." The claret was ordered and brought up; and the padre, tossing off a glassful, smacked his lips after it with the air of one who well knew and appreciated the good quality of the wine. "_Linda! lindisima_!" he exclaimed, rolling his eyes up to heaven, as if everything good should come and go in that direction. "And so, padre," said the impatient Roblado, "you have got your buffalo-tongues? Your hunters, then, have returned?" "They have; that is the business that brought me over." "Good! that was the business that was about to take me to the mission." "An onza we were both on the same errand!" challenged the padre. "I won't bet, father; you always win." "Come! you'd be glad to give an onza for my news." "What news?--what news?" asked the officers at once, and with hurried impatience of manner. "Another cup of Bordeos, or I choke! The dust of that road is worse than purgatory. Ah! this is a relief." And again the padre swallowed a large glassful of claret, and smacked his lips as before. "Now your news, dear padre?" "_Pues_, cavalleros--our hunters have returned!" "_Y pues_?" "_Pues que_! they have brought news." "Of what?" "Of our friend the cibolero." "Of Carlos?" "Precisely of that individual." "What news? Have they seen him?" "No, not exactly _him_, but _his trail_. They have discovered his lair, and know where he is at this moment." "Good!" exclaimed Vizcarra and Roblado. "They can find him at any time." "Excellent!" "_Pues_, cavalleros; that is my news at your service. Use it to your advantage, if you can." "Dear padre!" replied Vizcarra, "yours is a wiser head than ours. You know the situation of affairs. Our troopers _cannot catch_ this villain. How would you advise us to act?"