We walked through a considerable portion of the town before we reached the plaza, the church, and the _curato_.

Our journey had probably been one of fifteen miles.

All was dark at the _curato_; an indian was sleeping in the corridor, but he was a traveller and gave us no information on being awakened.

At our third or fourth pounding upon the door, Ernst appeared at the window; on learning who we were he hastened to let us in.

He reported trouble in the camp; the padre had gone hastily to Oaxaca to see the archbishop; our telegram had not been received; our letter came that morning.