For an instant I felt an appalling sense of my own responsibility in this suddenly serious situation, and hurried after the retreating family group.  But as I entered the corridor a vaquero touched me on the shoulder.  He had evidently just dismounted, and was covered with the dust of the road.  He handed me a note written in pencil on a leaf from Miss Mannersley’s sketchbook.  It was in Enriquez’ hand, and his signature was followed by his most extravagant rubric.

Friend Pancho:  When you read this line you shall of a possibility think I am no more.  That is where you shall slip up, my little brother!  I am much more—­I am two times as much, for I have marry Miss Boston.  At the Mission Church, at five of the morning, sharp!  No cards shall be left!  I kiss the hand of my venerable uncle-in-law.  You shall say to him that we fly to the South wilderness as the combined evangelical missionary to the heathen!  Miss Boston herself say this.  Ta-ta!  How are you now?

Your own Enriquez.