"Preach your _palabras_ to ears that have time to listen to them.

I shan't stop the procession for either you or your Yankee protege.

So you can both go to the devil." With this benevolent permission the captain of lancers struck the spurs into his horse, and once more placed himself at the head of his troop.
The crowd collected by the exciting episode soon scattered away--the sooner that the strange gentleman, along with his generous defender, had disappeared from the portico, having gone inside the inn.
The procession was still passing, and its irresistible attractions swept the loiterers along in its current--most of them soon forgetting a scene which, in that land, where "law secures not life," is of too frequent occurrence to be either much thought of or for long remembered..