There is one peculiar charm in the towns of Mexico, and that is the perfect straightness of the streets, along which the eye wanders till the point of sight terminates in the blue hills of the country. In Mexico especially I was never tired gazing upon the mountains which bound the horizon upon all sides. On the east I seemed to hear the murmur of the Pacific, and on the west the hoarse roar of the Atlantic sounding from behind these mountains. The first of these oceans reminded me of one of the most adventurous epochs of my life; and I never could forget that the second washed the shores of my native country. I never looked in that direction without feeling a kind of regret and sadness, which often merged into feverish anxiety. In this state of mind, I grasped at every thing which could afford me a pretext for quitting Mexico. I hastened to shake off the sluggishness which began to weigh upon me, and to abandon myself anew to the dangers and emotions of a wandering life—a sure remedy against home-sickness.

One evening, on reaching home, I learned that a stranger had called during my absence. The unknown had said that his business with me related to a matter of life and death; but, when asked to leave his name, had obstinately refused to give it. He happened to say, however, that he was living at an inn, the Meson de Regina, and had gone away expressing great annoyance at not finding me, and promising to return the next day. The strange air of the visitor, the numerous questions he put, the care that he evidently took not to allow his face to be seen by arranging the folds of his blue manga over it, and the large hat which shaded his eyes, combined to give to this visit a mysterious character, which acted very strongly on my imagination. When alone in my chamber, I called to recollection every one whom it might possibly be, but in vain, and I waited anxiously for the next day, which might probably unriddle the enigma; but the morning passed, the day advanced, and the unknown had not made his appearance. I resolved to go to the Meson de Regina; and, having got a description of the stranger, set out for the inn.

Although situated in one of the most central streets in Mexico, the Meson de Regina is only distinguished from other inns on less frequented roads by the greater number of travelers who are always coming and going. There is the same range of stabling, the same barrenness of furniture, the same absence of every comfort. I called for the huesped. In any other country it would have been an easy thing to find out the name of the unknown, whose costume I could describe to the most minute details, but it is very different in a Mexican hotel.

"Do you fancy," said the huesped to me, "that it is my business to ask the names of those who frequent my house? I have something else to think of, I assure you; but as for the person you are inquiring after, he set out, not half an hour ago, for Cuantitlan, as his servant, who accompanied him, informed me, and, if you are a swift horseman, you may overtake him, if you are so very desirous to know his name."

"What was the color of their horses?"

"Iron-gray and peach-blossom."

A ride of some hours before dinner could not but be salutary. Before setting out in pursuit of the stranger, I went home in order to ask some more questions of Cecilio, my valet, about my visitant. This lad had been already several years in my service, and his round chubby face, with an air at once hypocritical and simple, reminded me strongly of Ambrosio of Lamela in Gil Blas. As I expected, he gave me a very unsatisfactory description of the unknown. I then disclosed to Cecilio my intention of setting out immediately for Cuantitlan, ordering him at the same time to saddle our horses with all speed. Cecilio tried to convince me that, in an affair of so delicate a nature, it were best if I went alone, but I reiterated my order, and he left the room to execute my commands. As I was going to travel in the country, I donned my Mexican costume, and went down into the court in all haste. I remarked, without surprise, that my serape had been attached to the back of my saddle. My pistols were in their holsters; and I also carried a lance with a scarlet pennon, heavily shod with iron, which I was accustomed, when traveling, to have fixed to my right stirrup. A sabre hung from Cecilio's saddle-bow, and a tolerably well-packed valise was fixed to the croup of his horse. I asked him why he was making such preparations, as we were only going out for a short ride; but his only answer was, that the environs of Mexico were infested by robbers.

We set out. The travelers we were in pursuit of could not be more than an hour in advance of us, and the unusual color of their horses would aid us in tracking them easily. I flattered myself that if we pushed on we could overtake them without difficulty in two hours, and if that were beyond our power, a couple of fresh horses would not take long to cover the six leagues between Mexico and Cuantitlan. I thus set out with the intention of returning before sunset. The difference of speed, however, between my horse and that of my servant, forced me to slacken my pace. Two hours had already rolled away without catching the slightest glimpse of the man I was in quest of, and the spire of Cuantitlan had not even come in sight. I almost feared that the inn-keeper had sent us the wrong road, when some muleteers, returning to Mexico, told me that they had met two horsemen, one mounted on an iron-gray, the other on a peach-blossom. We reached Cuantitlan in a short time, and I was directed to the hostelry where the two horsemen had stopped. I had not been long in coming hither, and was at last soon to know what I was burning to learn. I went to the inn which had been pointed out to me, and my foot had no sooner reached the ground than I began questioning the huesped with the air of one who is sure of finding what he wants.

"Are your horses tired?" said the host, when I had finished.

"No."

"Well, that's something, for the travelers only entered my house for refreshment and then left, and it will be fresh horses alone that can overtake them."

And the host, who interested himself as much, if that could be, with the horsemen that passed his house as with those that lived within it, turned his back upon me with the politeness peculiar to his class. I vaulted again into my saddle. A quarter of an hour more, thought I, would explain to me a certain defiant raillery which Cecilio had taken little pains to suppress. To my great mortification, however, the time rolled away; night was coming on, and the shades of evening were falling insensibly around. Night at last fell; and I would have given up this long-protracted chase, had not wounded self-esteem goaded me as much as curiosity. A solemn silence brooded over the road we were pursuing. Sometimes I stopped, fancying I heard before me the stamp of horses' feet, and then redoubled my pace with ardor, till the unbroken stillness which reigned around showed that I had been under a delusion. Still, the certainty of being on the traces of the unknown kept up my spirits, for, from Mexico to the place where we now were, not even a bridle-path joined our road. All the probabilities were in my favor. However, after a six hours' ride we required rest, and a twelve leagues' gallop rendered a halt necessary for our horses. It was, besides, time to set about looking for a place to put up, for in Mexico there are two requisites for getting into an inn; the first is, that the inn please the travelers; and the second, that the hour and the travelers please the inn-keeper. Luckily, I was not long in discovering a light in a cabin standing by itself, toward which we spurred our horses. Our host informed us that two horsemen had passed his house about half an hour before we came up, but the night was so dark that he could not distinguish the color of their horses. As he was sure that they must stop a short way off to pass the night, we decided to stay where we were till dawn, hoping to overtake them on the following morning. I considered that if we were off before sunrise we could easily make up for lost time. Unfortunately, Cecilio did not rise next morning till late, and the sun was high in the heavens ere we found ourselves on the road. I had, however, gone too far to recede, and, besides, I had now a definite aim to pursue. Cecilio did not view the case in the same light as myself, and it was with a slight feeling of despair that every now and then he informed me of the number of leagues we had traveled since we left Mexico. But, though seen by so many people, the travelers seemed to slip from me as if by magic at the very moment I was flattering myself that I had overtaken them. I had already passed through the rocky defile of the CaÑada, and had left behind me the hacienda of St. Francisco. During my journey I had inquired at every rancho, and at all the ordinary halting-places, and every one concurred in saying that two mounted travelers, one on an iron-gray, the other on a peach-blossom, could be only a short distance in advance.

"These two travelers are surely a brace of devils," said Cecilio, sadly, "or two great criminals at least, as they seem to stop to rest nowhere."

Without replying, I continued my route, for I did not wish to have the worst in this contest, and a kind of phrensy began to take the place of my former curiosity. For the second time since leaving Mexico the sun set behind the hills that lay before us, and still there was no hope of attaining the object of our journey. Our horses, jaded by a ride of twenty hours, were beginning to be fatigued; and it was with a lively satisfaction that I perceived, by the last gleams of departing day, the red walls of the hacienda of Arroyo Zarco.

CHAPTER II.

The Hacienda of Arroyo Zarco.—The young Mexican Lady.—The young Spanish Nobleman.—Don Tomas Verdugo.

The hacienda of Arroyo Zarco is a vast and imposing building, built partly of brick and partly of large stones, situated almost at the entrance to the extensive and fertile plains of Bajio. The place, however, where this hacienda rises, is far from presenting the smiling appearance which characterizes the basin bearing its name. It stands on a flat, barren plain, where grow a few melancholy-looking stunted trees, one or two of which shade the back walls of the building: a little brook of bluish-looking water, the fountain-head of which is not far off, gives the name of Arroyo Zarco (blue rivulet) to the hacienda. A large square court, ornamented on its four sides with stone arches like the cloisters of a convent, forms a kind of vestibule to the apartments of the family. The rooms devoted to travelers are under these galleries. Stables, large enough to contain with ease a whole regiment of cavalry, make up two or three other courts. It was the only place at which I could put up within six leagues, and here I hoped to find the travelers I was in quest of, provided I had not taken the wrong road.

"We have come thirty-two leagues since yesterday," said Cecilio, taking my bridle, with a sigh, "and if your lordship persist in continuing the pursuit, perhaps it will only be prudent and advisable if I return to Mexico to dissipate the uneasiness that will probably arise there on your account."

"The duty of a good servant is to accompany his master every where," was my reply; and, going up to the stable-boy, I began to put some questions to him regarding the travelers who had arrived before us. From him I learned that about forty travelers had stopped at the hacienda in the afternoon, and, for want of better information, I was obliged to content myself by a personal inspection of the stables. I ought to have gone there at first without making any inquiries; and, as there was still some daylight, I directed my steps to the courts. A great number of horses were munching their provender in their stalls, and, from the joyful eagerness with which they ate, I could see that they had come a long distance; but I could hardly contain myself for joy when I distinguished side by side, like two faithful companions, the iron-gray and the peach-blossom. This was but the beginning of success; for, to complete the discovery, I must examine nearly sixty travelers, for there was almost that number of horses in the stables. This, to speak the truth, was almost impracticable—dangerous, perhaps, in one respect, and ridiculous in another.

As I was going along the lobby which led to my room, where I intended to rest a short time previous to resuming the pursuit, a coach, drawn by eight mules, and escorted by three horsemen armed with muskets and sabres, came rattling into the court-yard. The arrival of a carriage at a Mexican inn is always an event of some importance; it bespeaks travelers of distinction, or, better still, the presence of females, whom, though they may not perhaps be young, the excitement of travel invests with a thousand illusory charms. While the three horsemen who formed the escort, and the two coachmen who conducted the team, were wrangling with the huesped, the court all the time filled with strange figures, one of the horsemen alighted and advanced respectfully to open the carriage door. A man of a certain age descended first, a younger person followed, and, before any one had time to offer her their hand, a young lady hurried out after them. She wore a costume adopted by several rich rancheras when traveling, an attire which suits equally well the carriage or the side-saddle. She carried in her hand a hat with a broad brim; and her manga, richly ornamented with silk velvet and gold lace, could not hide entirely her fine flexible figure, and bare, sunburned arms. Her uncovered head left exposed her beautiful black hair; and her eyes, as black, and not less brilliant, gazed around in the free bold style peculiar to Mexican women. She seemed evidently seeking for some one in the group that surrounded her; but when she saw the unknown faces which greeted her, she veiled them modestly under her eyelids.

Night came on, and the young lady had retired to one of the chambers of the hacienda when another traveler entered the court-yard. The new-comer was a young man, evidently about five or six-and-twenty, tall and well made. Though poorly clad, his dress was unstudiously elegant, and a fine black mustache heightened the dignity of his appearance. The predominant expression of his countenance was at once haughty and sad, but his face was remarkable at times for a singularly winning sweetness. A little mandolin hung round his neck, and at the pommel of his saddle dangled an old rusty rapier. The lean and somewhat scraggy horse he rode was followed by another ready saddled and bridled. I could not help feeling a touch of pity for this poor young man with the melancholy face. The famine-stricken appearance of both horses and master, showed but too well the hardships which they had endured in common—long journeys executed upon little or no food, and entire days passed probably without sustenance of any kind. Like the other travelers, the cavalier called the huesped; but, instead of addressing him in a loud voice, he stooped from his saddle and whispered in his ear. The huesped, in reply, shook his head; a cloud passed over the face of the unknown, he colored slightly, looked sorrowfully at the unharnessed carriage, twitched his bridle, and left the hacienda.

It was now time for me, however, to look after my own business. The joy of Cecilio, when he found that the two horses of our travelers were in the stables of the inn, was changed into despair when I communicated to him my orders. As I could not interrogate sixty travelers, I ordered him to saddle our horses at midnight, and station himself along with me in the court-yard near the gate. In this way not a single traveler could leave the place at any hour of the night without my knowledge. This point arranged, I left Cecilio plunged in melancholy reflection at the prospect of a night to be passed in the open air, and hastened to the kitchen, which, according to the custom of the country, served also for a dining-room.

In this vast hall, travelers of every kind—traders, military men, arrieros, and servants, were seated round a number of tables placed near the fire. I sat down like the rest, and, during the whole time of my meal, kept my ears open to catch the conversation that was going on. I did not, however, pay much attention to it, as it consisted only of stories of robbers, storms, impassable torrents—favorite topics of conversation with all travelers. Weary at last of listening to a series of questions and answers in which there was nothing interesting, I asked the landlady, in a loud voice, about the two horses, the colors of which I mentioned, that were then in the stable. I was more fortunate at first than I hoped. I learned that one of the individuals was the SeÑor Don Tomas Verdugo, who had arrived about an hour before me; but, being pressed for time, he only waited till he got a relay of horses, and then departed, leaving at the hacienda the two horses he had brought with him till his next arrival.

"Although it seems strange that you can have any business with him," added the landlady, "I know that he will stay two days at Celayo, and you will find him at the Meson de Guadalupe, where he is accustomed to put up."

I was very anxious to elicit some more information, but the wary hostess kept herself very reserved, and I quitted the kitchen very much disappointed to learn that I had still a forty leagues' ride before meeting my mysterious visitor, but delighted to find that I knew his name, and had a certain aim to pursue. After countermanding my order to Cecilio, as it was not late—and sleep is a long time in visiting a stony couch, especially when one is very much fatigued—I went and sat down at the outer gate of the hacienda, a few paces from the high road.

The country round lay as still and silent as if it had been midnight, and the moon shone brightly overhead. In the horizon the hills began to put on their nocturnal russet. Upon the whitened plain, the moisture from the earth, condensed by the coldness of the night, looked in the distance like a tranquil lake, and from among the vapor towered aloft some aloes which grow upon this rocky soil. In this mournful solitude, in an inhospitable country, where a thousand dangers surround the traveler, especially when he is a foreigner, my present enterprise appeared for the first time in its true light—a perilous folly. For the first time, also, since my departure from Mexico, my heart failed me, and I was almost on the point of retracing my steps, when, as I was taking, as I fancied, a last look at the scene, I thought I heard, amid the stillness of the night, the distant sounds of a guitar. This came, probably, from a party of muleteers who had bivouacked at some distance, or some groom who was playing to his fellows in one of the inn stables. Without stirring, I listened to the strains broken by the distance, when gradually, out of the stillness, a vocal accompaniment stole along on the night air. Owing to the profound silence that prevailed, I easily made out the words of the song; it was a Spanish Romancero; but the musician, through some odd fancy, had accompanied it with a refrain, consisting of some by-words very much in use among the Mexican people. This singularity raised in me a desire to see the player. At a short distance from the hacienda, and at the foot of a low hill which overtopped it, I observed the flickering light of a fire. One side of the singer's face was brightly illuminated by the blaze, and near him, two horses, tied together by a long cord, were cropping the scanty grass which grew on that stony soil. I advanced quietly, so as not to interrupt the unknown; but the noise of my footsteps betrayed me, and the music stopped all at once. The stranger rose hurriedly; the graze of a sword which he was unsheathing struck my ear. The adventure was becoming less pleasant than I had anticipated. I stopped, then advanced again; and, by the light of the fire, I distinguished the young man whom I had seen in the court-yard of the inn, but whom I little expected to find again so near me.

"Who goes there?" he exclaimed in Spanish, and in a pure Castilian accent.

"A friend!" I cried; "but put up your rapier; I am alone and unarmed."

The moon lighted up the surrounding objects so clearly that the Spaniard was convinced that I had spoken the truth, and he returned it to its sheath.

"Pardon my indiscretion, SeÑor Cavalier," I said, advancing into the illuminated circle; "I have been drawn to you, I must say, only by a motive of curiosity. If I am not deceived, you are, like myself, a foreigner, and, as such, almost a friend."

In spite of my politeness, the stranger's features still kept an air of haughty defiance. He seated himself, however, and invited me, with a wave of his hand, to do the same. I did so without ceremony.

"I am a Spaniard, it is true," answered my new companion, haughtily; "but, throughout the whole of America, is not a Spaniard at home? It is now my turn to ask pardon of you for deeming you a spy sent by—"

The Spaniard stopped all at once.

"By whom?" I inquired.

"You are welcome," said the unknown, without replying. He accepted a cigar which I offered him, and we began to smoke with all the gravity which characterizes Indian warriors round a council fire. By the light of the moon, aided by that of the fire, I could easily see, what I had before noticed, that the hard privations which the Spaniard had endured had left ineffaceable traces of mental suffering on his brow, but without altering in the least his noble physiognomy.

"Did you compose those verses yourself," I asked, "which I have so indiscreetly interrupted, and whose originality has struck me so much?"

"No; I only adapted them to an air of my own composition for an affair which it would be too tedious to relate to you."

There was evidently an attempt at concealment in this reply, which whetted my curiosity. I resolved to make a confidant of the young Spaniard by telling him the object of my journey, and the many checks I had experienced since my departure from Mexico.

"Our positions are not dissimilar," said the Spaniard, when I had done. "Like you, I am pursuing a nameless object; but thank God that you have been saved from the dangers that I have undergone."

"Tell me about them," I said. "I like a story told in the open air—at night above all, and in the light of a fire like this."

"Be it so," said the Spaniard. "I shall begin by telling you that I am a Biscayan and a nobleman; not by election, like most of my Compatriots, but descended from a long line of ancestors, who recognize Lope Chouria as the chief of their ancient clan. My name is Don Jaime de Villalobos. I bear another name here for common use. My mother has the first rank in my affection, then my father, and lastly my country. You now know me, SeÑor Cavalier. I am now about to tell you of the affair in which I am at present engaged."

The slight air of superciliousness with which he began his story was not displeasing to me; it was like a continuation of the Romancero of which the young nobleman had been singing a verse a short time before. He continued with more simplicity.

"Unfortunately, I was born poor, though of noble blood. More than once during my infancy have I been awakened from sleep by the rude ice-wind which whistled without obstruction through the ruined manor-house in which my mother and I dwelt. As a compensation, God gave me a good appetite, which made me forget the cold. I shot up apace; my noble birth interdicted me from all manual labor and servile employment; and to leave my mother, who was now growing old, and take service in the army, was a step which was not in accordance with my inclination. However, I could not long remain a stranger to the civil war which was then raging in the Basque Provinces. Don Carlos, you are perhaps aware, often forgot to pay his officers and soldiers, and all that I gained in his service was the honor of being a creditor of his noble highness. Returning to my maternal abode, I was grieved to find it more dilapidated than ever, and to feel still more the anguish which rent my mother's heart, for I saw her sinking day after day under the double burden of old age and poverty. One evening a peddler came and demanded hospitality of us, and as he only asked for shelter, we granted it. His wandering life had enabled him to pick up all sorts of news, and I learned from him that one of our neighbors had made a wealthy marriage in New Spain.

"'What a capital thing it would be,' said he, 'if a young nobleman like you could be so lucky in that land of gold and silver, where the ambition of all the women is summed up in the couplet,

"In my present position a rich marriage was the only resource left me, and I resolved to go to the New World and seek my fortune. I communicated my hopes to my mother. The payment of a debt gave me the means of procuring a passage in a ship from Bilboa; and full of hopes of being able to bring back a fortune to my mother, which was my only ambition, I set sail. I arrived at Vera Cruz a year ago, and visited the churches assiduously, the only place where the fair inhabitants delight to show themselves, but not one deigned to give me the slightest countenance. At night in the deserted streets I watched long, but to no purpose, for none appeared. I knew well that if I did not announce my presence under a window, I ran a risk of spending my nights as fruitlessly as my days. I had then recourse to music, and purchased a mandolin. Unluckily, though a passable musician, I was not poet enough to compose a good serenading song, and was forced to tack on to an old Romancero a piece of a wretched ballad that I remembered—the miserable bit of doggerel which had incited me to quit the old manor-house. I was engaged in singing that when you interrupted me."

The Spaniard here began to smoke with the air of a man who is resolved to do his duty conscientiously.

"And you are not much older than a boy," said I, much surprised at the abrupt conclusion of Don Jaime's story.

"An old maid, a sort of duenna, who had worn linen of Brittany for many years, had no objection to me on that score. You understand my object in coming here was to get a young, rich, and beautiful wife. Had the duenna been rich, for my mother's sake I would have married her, but she was neither rich nor young, and had never been pretty."

"'Tis a thousand pities," said I; "you are half a century behind, SeÑor Don Jaime. Fifty years ago every chance would have been in favor of a cavalier of your figure and appearance. Now I am afraid that time is past."

An almost imperceptible smile broke upon the lips of the Biscayan, but I could not guess whether it was caused by the compliment I had paid him, or pity for the incredulity I had manifested.

"Since you are in the indulgent vein, and I in the indiscreet one, SeÑor Don Jaime, allow me to ask you this last question—Have you supped to-night?"

The brow of the Spaniard lowered. I feared I had abused rights acquired on such a slender acquaintance as mine; but his noble self-respect never gave way. He was, besides, too much of a gentleman to blush because he was poor.

"I have," replied he, with a gracious smile. "May I have the honor of offering you a portion of my supper?"

The Spaniard tendered me a cigarette.

"What! was that all your supper?"

"A cigarette! fie on it; it is, in truth, somewhat too meagre a repast for the last descendant of the Counts of Biscay. I have consumed more than a dozen of them, and have not made a very good supper."

This seemed to have exhausted the patience of the poor nobleman. He said nothing for a few moments, and then, with an air of calm dignity, exclaimed,

"SeÑor Cavalier, I have granted you the only thing it was in my power to bestow in this world—my hospitality, such as it is. Enjoy yourself at my fire as much as you please; but, after a hard day's journey, you will pardon me if I betake myself to rest. May God bless and protect you!"

The Biscayan threw some sticks upon the fire, wrapped himself up in his cloak, and, after bidding me good-night with a wave of his hand, lay down. I threw my eyes mechanically around. More fortunate than their master, and half hidden by the icy fog of evening, the two horses cropped the short, withered grass which grew on the stony plain. My heart swelled, and a deep feeling of respectful sympathy took possession of me at seeing this deep misery so nobly supported.

"SeÑor Don Jaime," said I, with a broken voice, "I thank you for the hospitality you have shown me, and, in return, I should be both proud and happy if you would take the use of my chamber in the venta."

The young traveler started and sat up; his eyes sparkled in his pale face. He seemed to hesitate for a moment; he then held out his hand.

"I accept your offer," he said; "you will do me a service I shall never forget. I must now tell you, in confidence, that I had vainly solicited that accommodation from the huesped, for which I was too poor to pay, but which on this night, and this night only, I would thankfully have paid for with my heart's blood."

This reply was an additional mystery to me; but I had now become Don Jaime's host, and that prevented me from asking any questions. We took the two horses by the bridle, and, without exchanging a word, returned to the venta.

CHAPTER III.

The Elopement.

After my new companion had been installed in my chamber, I went out under pretense of seeing that the horses were taken care of, and ordered Cecilio to fetch from the kitchen a supper sufficient for two persons. The Biscayan, after some ceremony, seemed quite willing to accompany me in my repast. I had already made a good supper, but, for politeness' sake, I took a small portion to bear him company, my guest meanwhile doing justice to the viands, and quite lost in wonder at my abstemiousness.

"How can I help it?" said I, in explanation; "this is my first run through the country, and I have not yet got accustomed to their infernal cookery."

And while Cecilio, standing behind my chair, opened his eyes wide on hearing me say that I had but newly come into the country, I could not help admiring the prodigious appetite that had been developed by a fast of twenty-four hours.

"Now," said I, when the dishes were all cleared, "if the neighborhood of a young and charming lady, whose chamber is next to mine, does not hinder you from sleeping, I fancy you will do well to imitate me." And I muffled myself in my cloak, and lay down on the floor.

"Not a bad idea," said the Spaniard. "But, before going to sleep, perhaps you would like to hear an air on my mandolin."

"Use your freedom, but pray pardon me if the melody set me asleep."

In spite of the hard and cold couch on which I was reclining, in a short time I heard nothing but a confused murmur of broken notes, and then consciousness forsook me. I awoke with a start, under the impression that a strong chilling draught was setting full upon me. The long, thin candle which had been stuck to the wall of the chamber was throwing its last dull, smoky glare around. The Spaniard had disappeared. I was alone; and the chamber door, which had been left open, had allowed the cold night air to enter and awake me. A dead silence reigned through the hacienda, broken only by the distant crowing of the cock. I listened, surprised at the abrupt disappearance of my companion, and rose and shut the door, and, while doing so, threw a hasty glance into the court-yard. From amid the darkness I thought I discerned two black profiles half hidden by a column. One of them was that of the Biscayan, whose voice I could distinguish, although he spoke low; the other was unknown to me; but in the sweet tone, and in the accents, though prudently concealed, I could not doubt for a moment but that it was a woman. I had seen enough. I repaired to the door and pushed it open. At the grating of the rusty hinges, a slender form disappeared like a shadow behind a distant pillar. The Biscayan came up quickly to me.

"No apologies," said he; "you have, without knowing it, made yourself master of a secret which would have been yours sooner or later. It is better, then, that you know it now. Besides, I was just speaking of you. Is it not to you I owe one of the happiest moments of my life? Have I not still need of a new proof of that friendship which henceforth will be so valuable to me?"

Don Jaime then, in a few words, gave me the particulars of a romantic attachment which had arisen six months before in the shady walks of the Alameda; that, owing to the want of fortune on his part, a union could not be effected; that all attempts at flight had been defeated by watchful vigilance, which had never been relaxed till the time when the father of her he loved for her beauty alone, before knowing of her wealth, set out to visit one of his haciendas in the interior of the country. To assist in the attempt at elopement, Don Jaime had brought two horses with him; but at the third stage, at Arroyo Zarco, the poor young man, who had followed the carriage at a distance, was deprived of this last resource, as the huesped would not admit him within the walls of the building. Thanks to our lucky meeting, he had obtained admittance, and was now quite ready for a start to Guanajuato. Once there, Don Jaime intended to intrust the daughter of the haciendero to the care of a distant relative of his, who would conceal her in a convent till, the pursuit being slackened and the marriage concluded, he could set sail for Spain. Unluckily, a new obstacle presented itself. How could we quit the inn without awakening the suspicions of the huesped, and how hide the direction of our flight and keep up appearances? Don Jaime had thought that I might be able to accompany them, leaving my valet at the venta, while we accommodated ourselves with his horse. Donna Luzecita (the lady's name) could pass easily for Cecilio, and the landlord, seeing as many pass out as had entered in, could conceive no suspicion.

The Biscayan regarded me with a look of such melting eloquence, that I was on the point of throwing myself, heart and soul, into this new adventure; but, on reflection, I deemed it proper to refuse. Don Jaime sighed, and left me. He returned in a few minutes, accompanied by the young lady. A rebozo, worn in the Mexican manner, was passed round her head. Through the folds of her silk veil you could discern a bandeau of jet black hair encircling a brow empurpled with a modest blush, and under the arch of her black eyebrows two eyes modestly veiled by their long lashes.

"What should I not owe you, SeÑor Cavalier," said she, in that harmonious voice whose silvery tone had so charmed me some minutes before, "if you would consent to help us in our extremity! At any rate, a refusal will never change my unalterable resolution."

I must confess that her look and simple words had almost brought me over to her side. I only stammered out some commonplace about duty and prudence.

"Your presence," added the Spaniard, "can prevent one misfortune; for I love her so much that, rather than see her torn from me, I would stab her to the heart."

Proud and grateful for this burst of passion in her lover, the lady raised her eyes, which had been hitherto cast to the ground, and gazed steadily at the Spaniard with one of those sharp, piercing looks of love which her Creole impetuosity could not retain. It was thus she desired to be loved. Then, holding out to me one of those hands which God seems to have modeled expressly for Mexican women—"You consent, don't you?" said she.

Every moment was precious. Twelve o'clock had struck, and I could not pain her by another refusal. To carry our saddles and valises to the stables, and prepare the horses for the road, was the work of an instant. The darkness in the stables was very great, and it was only by the light from our cigars that we could distinguish our steeds. In the court-yard the two coachmen were sleeping near their mules.

"Halloo! friend," cried one of them, yawning, "are you for the road so early?"

"I have a long way to go," I replied; "but you needn't stir; the cock has not yet crown."

The snoring of the coachmen, who had dropped asleep an instant afterward, was soon mixed with the chorus of noises that proceeded from the stable, and by groping about we managed to finish our business without any new interruptions. We arranged that the better of the two horses which Don Jaime had brought with him should be reserved for the use of the daughter of the haciendero. One thing only remained to be done—to instruct Cecilio in the part he was to play in our absence. I went to his bed-chamber. His organ of wonder had been largely exercised during the night, but the surprise which now awaited him was still more astonishing than any of the others. The poor fellow was sleeping with his hands clenched, when I, with some difficulty, awoke him.

"Wilt thou[26] listen?" said I to him, when he was fully awakened. "Thou must sleep soundly till ten o'clock in the morning. If thou art unable to do so, at least remain in thy chamber. Reasons of the most important nature demand that thy presence in the venta be not even suspected till that hour. Thou must then slip unperceived out of the hacienda; and, in order that thou may'st do that the more easily, I am going to take away thy horse. Take the road to Celaya, and rejoin me at the venta of the Soledad, where I shall wait for thee."

"I shall execute your lordship's orders," said Cecilio, bowing sadly, and seemingly quite disconcerted at this new inconvenience.

My two companions were in the saddle on my return. Don Jaime appeared to shudder in the cold night air; and his beautiful companion, her head concealed by her thick silk veil, and her shoulders covered with a manga with the lining outside, seemed completely disguised except to a very experienced eye. The convulsive agitation of her bosom, however, and her stifled sobs, betrayed her violent emotion. I well understood the sentiments which agitated her, and I could not help casting a melancholy glance in the direction of the chamber in which the father of Donna Luz slept. In that trying moment, the Castilian generosity, so inherent in Don Jaime's character, showed itself in a remarkable manner.

"Luzecita," he said, in a choking voice, "you have not yet advanced too far to recede—it is your father you are leaving."

Recalled by the voice of Don Jaime to the thought that was uppermost in her mind, the lady trembled, and the two for a time seemed alone in the world. Taking the hand of the one she loved, and carrying it to her lips with the passionate submission of an Eastern slave,

"I have no father now," she said, in a voice at once firm and sweet; "lead on."

On hearing this my last scruples vanished, and we set out. We traversed the court in silence. The huesped was sleeping on the ground close to the gate. I touched him with the point of my lance without speaking; he started up with the mechanical promptness of a man accustomed to be roused at all hours of the night.

"For the road already?" on receiving the reckoning. "And this cavalier also, with his two horses?"

"Yes," I replied; "this cavalier, my valet, and myself, must be at the hacienda of San Francisco before daylight."

"A pleasant journey," he cried, on opening the gate, which soon closed behind us. We at first followed the road to Mexico, so as to tally with the false direction I had given to the huesped; we then turned bridle all at once in the direction of Celaya, making a wide detour to avoid passing near the hacienda. A damp, icy fog covered the plain as far as the eye could reach; the night-wind tore aside the curtain of mist from time to time, and showed us the surrounding country covered with hoar-frost. A few paces distant appeared the watch-fire of the Biscayan: it looked like a star just about to expire. Our horses made their way rapidly through the mist, the breath that issued from their nostrils playing about their heads in immense volumes. Although not sharing in the feverish impatience of my two companions, I could not help feeling a kind of emotion when I compared the uncertain issue of the event into which they had blindly rushed with the thick vapors which enwrapped in darkness the road and the objects around. We were not long in placing a considerable distance between us and the venta. We then slackened our pace; a grayish glimmer began to light up the objects around us: in the east, and behind the hills, which were still enveloped in mist, a few pale rays heralded the approach of the sun.

"Let us stop here a minute," I said to the Biscayan, "to breathe our horses. In the mean time, I shall alight to listen if there are any pursuers behind us."

We had now covered a distance of almost eight leagues without exchanging a word, this being one of those cases in which a full heart places a restraint upon the tongue. With my ear close to the ground, I listened anxiously to catch the sound of the approach of horsemen: no noise, no echo came from the earth. We were in a vast desert plain. The slight agitation I had felt during our long gallop was succeeded by a soothing calm; I seated myself on the grass, and invited my companions to do the same. This moment of passing security brought out a burst of sentiment which had been restrained during the long gallop. As the hoar-frost immediately disappears when the first beams of the sun have reddened the grassy plain, so anxiety fled from the hearts of the two lovers, and gave place to confidence and delirious exultation. Scarcely had the lady alighted, than, obeying an irresistible impulse of her Mexican nature, she strained in her arms him who would henceforth stand to her in place of the whole world. The faded, melancholy face of the Spaniard seemed all at once lighted up with animation; but the rapture inspired by these caresses was too much for him; he turned pale, staggered, and fell to the ground with his eyes closed. Donna Luz rent the air with her shrieks.

"Don't be afraid," I said; "joy never kills."

I laid him gently upon the grass; Donna Luz knelt by him, and bedewed him with tears. Don Jaime soon revived and came to himself, while the young Creole, turning about, hid her face in her hands with that strange mixture of modesty and passion which lent an additional charm to her beauty.

"You must come with us no farther," said the Biscayan to me. "You have risked enough in our service, and I will abuse your kindness no longer; but, before parting, I have another favor to ask of you: it is that you take my cloak in exchange for yours; it will aid my disguise more effectually."

I consented to his request.

"You will gain little by the bargain," said Don Jaime, with a smile; "but you have done me a great service. Since you are not bound in any particular direction, you may perhaps come to Guanajuato. I shall remain a fortnight there, and you can easily find me out, and I shall be but too happy to express to you once more the gratitude which I shall feel for you all my life."

The parting moment came. We assisted the lady to her saddle. Don Jaime then mounted. Untying the mandolin which hung at his saddle-bow,

"Take this," he cried, "and keep it as a remembrance of me. For a long time this instrument and hope were all my possessions; now, instead of hope, God has given me the reality."

The tears stood in his eyes. He shook me by the hand a second time. Donna Luz paid me with a smile more than she owed me, and the pair galloped away. I followed them with my eye for a long time involuntarily, thinking that there was much between the cup and the lip. The morning mist soon hid them from my sight.

[26] In Mexico it is the custom for masters to "thou" their valets.