noon
There came one cloudless day near the end of February , when a kind of cool and beautiful summer seemed to rule over all the fair land of Anahuac , except among the snow-clad Cordilleras . There were roses in bloom in many gardens of the city of Mexico , and all things in and about the national capital wore an exceedingly peaceful air . The very guards at the citadel were pacing listlessly up and down , as if they were lazily aware that all evil-minded gringos and other foes of their comfort were several hundreds of miles away . At the city gates there were no sentries of any kind , and a young fellow who rode in on a spirited pony , at an hour or so after noon , was not questioned by anybody as to where he came from or what he was doing there . He cast sharp glances in all directions as he rode onward , but he seemed to have no need for inquiring his way . He went steadily , moreover , as if he might have business rather than pleasure on his hands , and he did not pull in his pony until he had reached the front of the Paez mansion . There was no one on the piazza but a short , fat old woman , in a blazing red cotton gown , who sprang to her feet almost as if he had frightened her , exclaiming : `` Señor Carfora ! ''