“All my things here!  How did you manage that, Senor Carera?”

“By sending a man, whom I could trust, in the character of a messenger from the prison with a note to the posadero, as from you, asking him to deliver your baggage and receipt your bill.”

“That was very good of you, Senor Carera.  A thousand thanks.  How much—­”

“How much!  That is my affair.  You are my guest, remember.  Your baggage is in the next room, and while you make your preparations, I will see to the saddling of the horses.”

A very few minutes sufficed to put on my riding boots, get my pistols, and make up my scanty kit.  When I went outside, the horses were waiting in the patio, each of them held by a black groom.  Everything was in order.  A cobija was strapped behind either saddle, both of which were furnished with holsters and bags.

“I have had some tasajo (dried beef) put in the saddle-bags, as much as will keep you going three or four days,” said Senor Carera.  “You won’t find many hotels on the road.  And you will want a sword, Mr. Fortescue.  Do me the favor to accept this as a souvenir of our friendship.  It is a fine Toledo blade, with a history.  An ancestor of mine wore it at the battle of Lepanto.  It may bend but will never break, and has an edge like a razor.  I give it to you to be used against my country’s enemies, and I am sure you will never draw it without cause, nor sheathe it without honor.”

I thanked my host warmly for his timely gift, and, as I buckled the historic weapon to my side, glanced at the horse which he had placed at my disposal.  It was a beautiful flea-bitten gray, with a small, fiery head, arched neck, sloping shoulders, deep chest, powerful quarters, well-bent hocks, and “clean” shapely legs—­a very model of a horse, and as it seemed, in perfect condition.

“Ah, you may look at Pizarro as long as you like, Senor Fortescue, and he is well worth looking at; but you will never tire him,” said Carera.  “What will you do if you meet the patrol, Salvador?”

“Evade them if we can, charge them if we cannot.”

“By all means the former, if possible, and then you may not be pursued.  And now, Senor, I trust you will not hold me wanting in hospitality if I urge you to mount; but your lives are in jeopardy, and there may be death in delay.  Put out the lights, men, and open the gates. Adios, Senor Fortescue! Adios, my dear Salvador.  We shall meet again in happier times.  God guard you, and bring you safe to your journey’s end.”

And then we rode forth into the night.

“We had better take to the open country at once, and strike the road about a few miles farther on.  It is rather risky, for we shall have to get over several rifts made by the earthquake and cross a stream with high banks.  But if we take to the road straightway, we are almost sure to meet a patrol.  We may meet one in any case; but the farther from the city the encounter takes place, the greater will be our chance of getting through.”