I had scarcely thought of him for some days, so full had my mind been of other matters, but at the sight of his evil face I remembered that while this man lived, sorrow and danger must be my bedfellows.
He watched us pass, taking note of all, then he called to me who walked last: 'Farewell, Cousin Wingfield.

You have lived through this bout also and won a free pardon, you, your woman and your brat together.

If the old war-horse who is set over us as a captain had listened to me you should have been burned at the stake, every one of you, but so it is.

Farewell for a while, friend.

I am away to Mexico to report these matters to the viceroy, who may have a word to say.' I made no answer, but asked of our conductor, that same Spaniard whom I had saved from the sacrifice, what the senor meant by his words.
'This, Teule; that there has been a quarrel between our comrade Sarceda and our captain.