Gabriel Ferry

The Hand upon the Wall.—Desiderio Fuentes, the lucky Miner.—Don Tomas Verduzco.

Hardly a century ago, Guanajuato was a town of very little importance. Before the sudden change in its fortune, which resulted from the rich yield of silver in the Valenciana and Rayas mines, the mining industry of Mexico had concentrated its activity in the works of Tasco, Pachuca, and Zacatecas. The title of ciudad (city) had been borne by Zacatecas since 1588, while Guanajuato, though founded in 1554, did not attain that rank till seventy-eight years later, in 1741. It was not known that the mountains inclosing it on all sides, and on the slope of which it was built, held within their stony bosom the Veta Madre (Mother Vein), the richest lode of silver in the world. The situation of Guanajuato is, besides, doubly advantageous. The city is situated at once in the richest mining district in Mexico, and in the best cultivated part of the fertile plains of the Bajio.[32] It is thus the inhabitants call that large extent of country, about eighty leagues in circumference, which is bounded toward the side of Guanajuato by the Cordillera.

Alternately parched and inundated, the Bajio presents at all seasons an aspect singularly picturesque. During the rainy season, the winter of those favored climes, the sky, which loses its blue without losing its softness, floods the plains with fertilizing torrents. For several hours a day the Bajio is a vast lake, studded with tufts of verdure, with blue hills, with groups of white houses and enameled cupolas. On this sheet of water the green summits of the trees alone reveal to the traveler the capricious meanderings of the inundated road. Soon, however, the thirsty soil has imbibed the moisture through the innumerable cracks that eight months' drought has left in its surface. A layer of slime, deposited by the heavy rains and the torrents from the Cordillera, has enriched the impoverished earth. The heavens are clear and cloudless as before. The springs, freed from the crust which obstructed them, gush out more abundantly from the foot of the ahuehuetl.[33] The Peruvian-tree, the gum-tree, the golden-flowered huisache, amid whose blossoms the scarlet-plumed parrots scream, shade and perfume the now consolidated roads. The songs of muleteers and the bells of mules resound in the blue distance, mingled with the shrill creaking of cart-wheels. It is the time when the Indian laborer returns to his toils. Like the shepherd in the Georgics, with his leathern buskins, his short tunic, and bare legs, he lazily goads the oxen at the plow. And such is the fertility of this soil, that splendid crops cover the ground which the plow has scarcely furrowed. Still, it is not in the rich plain alone that nature has been most indulgent to the happy dwellers in the Bajio. Over the fertile valleys in the vicinity of Guanajuato, the Cordillera rears its metalliferous crest, whose sides are veined with lodes of gold and silver, and which delivers to the mattock of the miner the immense treasures of the Veta Madre.[34] The striking contrast that is visible between the laborer and the miner is nowhere so strongly apparent as in this part of the Bajio. Humble and submissive, the Indian husbandman is at every one's mercy. The miner, haughty and independent, takes a higher rank; and this claim is justified, we must admit, by the importance of the duty he performs. Obliged to submit to labor which yields him only limited results, the husbandman finishes his work in silence, while the pickaxe of the miner resounds, so to speak, to the end of the world, and is constantly adding, at every stroke, to the riches of mankind. Prosperity is not long in coming to the indefatigable miner. The slopes of the hills, the ravines, and the summits of the mountains swarm with a dense population, among whom the lucky finders of a new lode scatter their hard-earned money with thoughtless liberality, and squander in one day the earnings of six months. From the French miner Laborde, who lavished thousands upon Cathedrals, down to the meanest peon, the history of this bold workman has been always the same. Fortune is the only god he worships. He goes to his dangerous occupation as if specially sent thither by Divine Providence; and this proud thought is favored by the laws of the country, old privileges according the title of nobility to the worker in the mines. Even at this day he can not be dispossessed by his creditors of his mine, if he can afford to work it. It appears that there is a tendency to respect the descendants of a privileged race. Besides a knowledge of metals to guide him in his search, the miner must be endowed with a number of rare qualities; from that vigorous strength indispensable to one who has to raise heavy burdens, and support all day, on scanty wages, the enervating fatigue of under-ground work, down to activity and pliancy of limb, united with undaunted resolution and coolness. These qualities, it must be owned, are never found in the same man without corresponding defects. A capricious and undisciplined being, the miner only employs all his tact and energy if interested in the success of his enterprise. Sometimes, after toiling for a month, during which he has hardly earned enough to live upon—in a week, or even in a day, he recompenses himself for his long privations. The miner then thanks Dame Fortune. He scatters his gold with a lavish hand, and returns to his work only after all his gains are exhausted. At times he enriches himself by secretly pilfering the ore which really belongs to the proprietor of the mine, and the miners are but too expert at this species of theft.

It was in the midst of a population like this that I found myself at Guanajuato, after the dangerous and useless search recorded in the preceding chapters. I did not wish to let this opportunity escape me of observing upon this theatre of action a class of men, of whom the gambusinos, or gold-seekers of the Sonora, give one only an imperfect idea. After spending a day in repose, which the many painful events I had encountered rendered necessary, I went out next morning to visit the mines in the neighborhood of Guanajuato. While crossing the great square, and keeping myself on my guard, my attention was arrested by an unusual object. Nailed against the wall, and under a small pent-house, was a human hand cut off by the wrist. I stopped my horse to assure myself that it was not a plaster cast. A moment's examination was sufficient to convince me that it was indeed a human hand, once strong and muscular, but now blanched and withered by the wind, the sun, and the rain. Under the pent-house some half-burned candles told that pious souls had been touched by this strange exhibition, which seemed destined to perpetuate the remembrance of some bloody deed. After seeking in vain upon the wall an explanatory inscription, I continued my journey; but, during my short stay, a horseman had approached, and seemed determined to keep close by me. At any other time I would have accepted with a bad grace the company of the unknown, but I had come out, you must remember, in quest of a guide. I stopped my horse, and put some questions to him. The stranger bowed courteously.

"You are a stranger, SeÑor Cavalier," said he, with a smile.

"How do you know that?" I replied, a little astonished at his abrupt way of beginning a conversation.

"The curious way in which you gazed upon that withered hand sufficiently convinced me that you have not been long in the town, and had not much time to lose. I must say that, for me, who am looking out for a companion, our meeting is a lucky one."

I was not quite sure if I ought to accept with much cordiality the companionship so familiarly thrust upon me. He seemed to observe my hesitation, and exclaimed, with a certain degree of haughtiness, "You do not know me, and I am unwilling that you should for a moment suppose that you have got to do with some of those poor devils who are always ready to offer their services to the first stranger they meet. My name is Desiderio Fuentes. I am a miner; and, in the profession I exercise, there are some days on which fortune is unkind, and others on which you amass so much money that you do not know how to get rid of it. I am in the latter condition at present; and my invariable custom, on an occasion of this kind, is to procure some jolly companion who can share in my pleasures. If I can't get one, I take up with the first cavalier of good appearance I meet, and I confess that I have never had occasion yet to blame Fortune for the comrade she sent me."

This frank declaration reassured me completely. I told Desiderio, however, that I could not accept of his cordial offer. I had come to visit the silver mines in the immediate vicinity of Guanajuato, and was unwilling to waste in his company the time that I intended to devote to such a purpose, supposing always that he would not serve me as a guide. Desiderio preferred doing this rather than relinquish my society, being but too happy to escape from his own thoughts, were it only for a few hours. This bargain made, we spurred our horses, and a few minutes afterward got clear of the town.

On the road my guide informed me that he had made a lucky hit the night before, and that he could take his far niente for several days to come from the proceeds of a partido.[35] He added that it would be a delightful recreation for him to visit the mines in the neighborhood as an amateur, and he desired me to choose the one I had a mind to visit, premising only that he would rather not go to the Valenciana, as he happened to have a quarrel with one of the administrators. He wished to keep away from the Mellado, because he owed some money to one of the workmen there; and as for the Cata, certain misunderstandings of recent date caused him to avoid it with the greatest care. In spite of the apparent liberty of choice he had granted me, I saw no other way of accomplishing my object but by going to inspect the Rayas—the only one open to me. The precautions which Desiderio Fuentes was forced to take did not say much in his favor. My new friend was evidently very quarrelsome. He had certainly no love for paying his debts, and in his misunderstandings (dÉsavencias) his knife had doubtless played no unimportant part. I began to entertain but a very indifferent opinion of my companion. One expression especially that escaped the miner caused me to reflect.

"My first impulse is always very good," he said, "but I own my second is detestable."

We had now come to the extremity of a ravine whose precipitous sides had till now obstructed the view. A beautifully level plain lay stretched before us. Long strings of mules, laden with ore, were slowly making their way to one of those metallurgic establishments known in Mexico as a hacienda de platas. High chimney-stacks, from which volumes of smoke and leaden vapors rolled, now appeared; the stone patros also, on which the fluid metal is poured a day before its formation into ingots. The noise of the hammer pounding the argentiferous rock, the clattering of the mules' hoofs, and the cracking of whips, were mingled with the hoarser sound of the falling water that moved the machinery. I had stopped my horse to gaze on this animated scene, but my attention was soon attracted elsewhere. A few paces distant, but half hidden from us by a hollow in the road, I espied two men dragging along with ropes the carcass of a mule. Having arrived at a place where Desiderio and I could alone see them, one of them stooped over the dead mule, and seemed to examine it curiously, casting at the same time a suspicious glance around. The moment he caught sight of us, he flopped down on the carcass that he had been dragging a minute before, while his companion immediately disappeared in a dense thicket of low trees and brushwood.

"Well, I thought I was right," said Fuentes. "It is my friend Planillas; but what the devil is he doing there?"

At the name of Planillas I shuddered involuntarily, and, preceded by Fuentes, made my way directly to the place where the man was seated on the mule. I hoped to obtain some information from the friend of Don Tomas Verduzco as to the part the bravo had played in the murder of my friend Don Jaime. Planillas, his elbows on his knees, and his head on his hands, appeared overwhelmed by violent grief. The noise of our approach drew him at last from his abstraction, and he looked up at us, but with an expression of uneasiness rather than of sorrow.

"Ah! seÑores," cried he, "in me you behold the most miserable man in all New Spain."

"You are doubtless thinking," I replied, "of the young cavalier whom Don Tomas assassinated two days ago, and whose blood is on your head, since you might have saved his life by stopping the hand of your friend—of that Don Tomas who had been paid to kill him, you told me."

"Did I say that?" cried Florencio; "then, by the life of my mother, I lied. I am a terrible liar when in drink; and you know, SeÑor Cavalier, I had drunk a great deal that day."

Florencio paused, visibly embarrassed. Fuentes thereupon asked him why he was in such a state of grief when we came up, and why he persisted in taking the carcass of a mule for a seat.

"This mule is the cause of my sorrow," replied Planillas. "Although I was tenderly attached to her, I had sold her in my misery to the hacienda de platas you see in the valley below. I got employment in the work-shops to be near her; but, alas! the poor beast died this morning, and I have dragged her to this lonely place in order to mourn over her undisturbed."

Planillas again plunged his head between his hands with the air of a man who will not be consoled; then, doubtless, to turn the conversation, "Ah! SeÑor Cavalier," he said, "that is not my only misfortune. Yesterday a fight took place between the miners of Rayas and those of Mellado, and I was not there."

"I see nothing so unfortunate in that."

"Nothing unfortunate!" vociferated Planillas. "Ah! it was not one of those vulgar encounters that one sees every day; and you would never guess how it terminated—by a shower of piastres which the miners of Mellado poured upon their adversaries to prove the superiority of their mine. Ah! the beautiful eagle piastres!" he added, with a broken-hearted air; "and I was too late in the field."

I could better understand Planillas's grief for this last disappointment; but I should have doubted this excess of arrogant prodigality on the part of the Mellado miners had not Fuentes confirmed, with proud satisfaction, the truth of the tale. My companion would again have questioned Planillas, of whose lamentations he appeared suspicious, but a sudden cracking of branches in the brushwood behind us attracted his attention. A little thick-set man, a sort of dwarf Hercules, with a somewhat stern expression of countenance, stood before us. He saluted us politely, and sat down on the ground beside Planillas. His mouth tried to smile, but his glance, sinister and piercing as that of a bird of prey, belied the feigned gayety. We were silent for a few moments. The new-comer was the first to speak.

"You were talking just now," he said, "if my ears did not deceive me, of one Don Tomas. Could it be of Don Tomas Verduzco you were speaking?" He said this in a soft and silky tone, that contrasted strongly with the evil expression of his countenance. This simple question, coming from a man who had at once inspired me with the strongest repugnance, sounded very much like an insult.

"Precisely," I replied, exerting myself to keep cool; "I accused Don Tomas of the murder of a young man whom he did not even know the night before."

"Are you sure?" said the man, with a sinister glance.

"Ask this wretch!" I replied, pointing to Planillas.

On hearing this, Planillas bounced up as if he had been touched by a spring. He appeared to have recovered all his assurance. "I never said any thing of the kind. But your lordship," cried he, in an ironical tone, "is surely not acquainted with the respectable Don Tomas Verduzco, since you speak so in his presence."

I looked at the man thus denounced to me, and whom I now beheld for the first time. Imagination placed before me the bleeding body of Don Jaime, his agony, his last moments, and his happy future, all cut off in an instant by the knife of the man before me.

"Ah! you are Don Tomas Verduzco—" I could not finish. A sort of faintness came over me, and, without accounting to myself for what I was about to do, I cocked one of my pistols. At the click of the lock the stranger's face became livid, for Mexicans of the lower classes, who will not wince at the glitter of a knife-blade, tremble at the sight of a fire-arm in a European hand. He never stirred, however. Fuentes threw himself between us.

"Gently, seÑor! gently, Cascaras! how you take the customs of the country!"

"The deuce take that Planillas," said the stranger, with a forced laugh; "he is always playing off some joke or other. But the idea of passing me off as Don Tomas is too absurd. Has your lordship any interest, then, in this Don Tomas?"

My passion appeared to me ridiculous, and passed away as by enchantment.

"I do not even know him," I replied, somewhat confusedly, but with all my former coolness. "I can not tell how he has got mixed up in my affairs; but I think I owe it to my safety to show no mercy to such assassins when chance throws them in my way."

The stranger muttered some unintelligible words. I thought the opportunity a good one to get rid of my new friend Desiderio, whose companionship was becoming somewhat burdensome to me, so I saluted the group and rode off; but I had not counted on the idleness of Fuentes, for, before I had gone a hundred yards, he had overtaken me.

"I was perhaps wrong," he said, "to interfere in this affair, and to prevent you from lodging a bullet in the head of that ill-looking knave; for, judging from the revengeful look he cast at you, I presume the first stroke of a knife you will receive will be from his hand."

"Do you think so?" I replied, rather startled at this unpleasant prediction.

"I yielded, in truth, too readily to my first impulse," continued Fuentes, who seemed in a reverie. "What if we went back?" he said. "You might then resume the affair at the point at which you left it, and, in case of need, I would help you."

It was quite clear that Fuentes regretted having let slip this nice opportunity for a quarrel. I dryly refused his offer, and thought to myself that, decidedly, his second impulse was worse than his first.

"You won't! Well, it's no great matter. After all, who cares for a knife-thrust more or less? I have received three in my time, and am not a bit the worse."

I did not deem it necessary to make any reply to this remark, which did not place my guide's character in a very favorable light, and cut short his revelations by asking him some questions about the mine whose buildings were coming gradually into sight as we approached.

[32] Literally, bottom of a valley.

[33] The name of a species of cedar, whose presence almost always indicates the vicinity of a hidden spring. In Indian, ahuehuetl means lord of the waters.

[34] The Veta Madre, wrought by the four mining companies of Valenciana, Cata, Mellado, and Rayas, was discovered by the French miner Laborde, and has yielded, between the years 1829 and 1837, ore to the value of almost six million two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling.

[35] The miners are said to be in partido when a share of the proceeds is given them as wages. In this case the employers furnish them with tools, gunpowder, and candles.

CHAPTER II.

Description of, and descent into, a Silver Mine.—The Miner's Chapel.

When a mine is first begun, it is always left open to the sky, and the mineral is extracted by following the vein that contains it; but, as the mine gets deeper, two obstacles present themselves: the extraction of the ore becomes more costly, and the workmen are not long in meeting with hidden springs, the waters of which, unless removed, would drown the mine and stop the works. To provide against this danger, shafts are sunk, at the bottom of which a working gallery runs, that follows the vein of metal. The depth of the shaft depends upon the lode, which sometimes stretches so far down into the ground that two or three working galleries, one above the other, are obliged to be constructed. In the richest mines little paths of communication are added to these principal arteries, besides other works to assist in its exploration.

The ore and water are raised out of the mines by means of machines called Malacates, placed at the mouth of the shaft. Large bags, some made of the stringy bark of the aloe, others of ox-hide, are fixed to the ends of ropes wound round an enormous drum, the former for raising the ore, the latter for the water, and these are constantly passing up and down the shaft. The motive power is given by horses, which are kept constantly at the gallop.

Besides the grand shaft (tiro general), the mine of Rayas has two others of less importance, one of which reaches a depth of nearly eight hundred feet. The tiro general, remarkable for the diameter of its shaft, which is thirty-four feet, and for its frightful depth, almost twelve hundred feet, communicates with three principal galleries, one above the other, and these shafts and galleries, together with their accessories, form the most complete series of gigantic workings that are to be found in the country. The exterior appearance of this mine is, however, far from giving one an idea of the constant activity which prevails within it. Some paltry wooden sheds, covered with tiles, which protect the malacates, or shelter the workmen; a few buildings of mean appearance, the offices of the administrators or overseers, and two or three whitewashed houses, huddled together without any regard to order on the neighboring mounds, scarcely convey to the visitor any notion of the wonders he is going to behold.

It was about midday when I arrived with my companion at the opening by which we were to be admitted into the mine. We dismounted, confided our horses to the care of one of the miners, and entered. Desiderio carried in his hand a huge torch. I stood for a short time at the mouth of this vast laboratory, thinking on the millions of money it had been the means of putting into circulation. My guide, his cloak thickly covered with gold lace, that appeared, as the light of the torch fell on its velvety folds, to be seamed with golden links, looked like the lordly genie of this subterranean kingdom. We descended for a long time a series of steps, every one of which had the dimensions of a terrace. Amid the profound darkness, which the torch dispelled but feebly, we made a series of turnings and windings, changing every minute our temperature and direction, and sometimes mounting an inclined plane only to descend it. In about a quarter of an hour I perceived in the distance some wandering lights, then a few gigantic shadows appeared on the moist walls of the vault. I still kept on, and soon found myself in a square which the piety of the miners had converted into a chapel. In the centre rose a low altar, ornamented with wax tapers, which burned before an image of a saint. A man, who seemed to be praying fervently, was kneeling upon the steps of the altar. He was the first human being I had seen since entering the mine.

My guide touched my arm.

"Take a good look at this man," he said, in a low tone. The suppliant miner was entirely naked. Without the light of the flambeau, which allowed you to see his gray hair and angular features, you would not have thought he was an old man, so much youth and vigor seemed still to possess his nervous members.

"Why?" I inquired of Desiderio.

"This man," said he, "is no stranger to the history of the hand upon the wall that you gazed at with so much curiosity this morning; and, though that history is as well known to me as to him, perhaps from his lips it would have an additional interest, as his son was concerned in it."

I fancied that I had at last found an opportunity for shaking off Desiderio by insinuating that the narrator would probably go more into detail if he were telling the story to me alone. This time he took the hint.

"I am neither irritable nor quarrelsome," cried he; "but your lordship seems very desirous to get rid of his devoted servant."

"I must protest against the meaning you put upon my words."

Fuentes seemed to be calming down.

"Come," said he, with an air of raillery, "I will renounce my desire of accompanying you through these subterranean abodes, seeing you wish it. Besides, I must find out the meaning of the comedy played this morning by Planillas upon the carcass of the mule. You must visit the mine without me; and I shall tell you what I have learned about this fellow after you have come up the grand shaft, for, to crown your achievement, you must be drawn up by means of the malacate."

I was in such a hurry to be quit of this personage that I promised all he asked, without remarking the ironical smile with which he welcomed my reply. At this moment the miner had finished his prayer. Fuentes exchanged a few words with him in a low tone, and walked rapidly away. I felt relieved.

"SeÑor Cavalier," said the new-comer to me, "my comrade Fuentes has made me acquainted with your desire to know the story of my son from my own lips—about him who was the pride of the corporation of miners. This desire does me honor; but at present I can not accede to your wish. I am on my way to fire a charge in the mine. If I am still in being after that operation, I shall be with you in two hours, and place myself entirely at your disposal, for I love the brave, to whatever nation they may belong."

"And who told you I was brave?" I asked, with an air of astonishment.

"Caramba! a man who visits a mine for the first time, and who, as Fuentes tells me, has a strong desire to make the perilous ascent by means of the tiro! Well, we shall go up together, and on our journey I shall tell you the story. I shall meet you, then, in two hours at the bottom of the last gallery, close upon the grand shaft."

I could scarcely have avoided this pompous eulogium; but I could not help feeling a certain sinking of heart at the very thought of being forced, as it were, against my will, to make this difficult and dangerous ascent. I was again indebted to Fuentes for this new annoyance. However, I promised to meet the old miner at the time appointed, and, being alone, I profited by my independence so far as to examine at my leisure the new world into which I found myself transported. I had the torch which Desiderio had left with me, and walked about at my pleasure. Above me, fancifully hollowed out in the living rock, and studded with brilliant spangles, stretched vaults of unequal grandeur, some sustained by wooden props, others letting their sharp points descend, like the pendant of a Gothic lamp, till they threatened to fall and bruise one to pieces. A few tiny streamlets, which flowed along the bottom of the rough pilasters, gleamed brightly as the light of the torch fell upon them. At a distance, large drops of water escaped from the fissures in the rocks, and fell on the stony soil with the dull, regular beat of a pendulum. Before me several dark squares opened; the noise of footsteps reverberated in the sombre caves, and died away in the distance. Various lights from time to time struggled through the deep gloom; these were the miners passing and repassing, with a rush-light stuck behind their ear, looking like the gnomes of the magicians, who, with a light on their forehead, watch over the hidden treasures of their masters.

I advanced with all caution; for, left without a guide in this labyrinth, I did not know which way to go. I soon heard in the distance the dull sound of the pickaxes with which they were hewing away the rock, mingled with mysterious noises which seemed to come from a lower gallery. These sounds, though very indistinct, served to guide me. Since entering the mine, I had seen only those passages in which the ore had been all extracted. I was now impatient to behold a spot in which the miners were actually at work. Such a locality is called the labor—that is to say, the place where they are following the vein of silver. A dusky, obscure glimmer indicated that the proximity of the place was not far off; and I soon reached the orifice of a shaft not very deep, from which a strong light proceeded. I descended it by means of a wooden ladder placed zigzag. I hesitated at first to trust myself to this rickety ladder; but, emboldened by the shallowness of the shaft, I ventured to descend, and arrived safely at the bottom. A passage about five feet wide, and six hundred in length, conducted me along this underground hive, the air in which was as hot and stifling as if it had left the mouth of a crater. Lost in the midst of this crowd of workmen, who were too busy to notice my presence, I could examine at my ease the fantastic tableau which there met my eyes. A number of candles, stuck to the walls, threw a dull, confused light upon the miners, the greater portion of whom, up to their waists in water, were attacking the living rock with vigorous strokes of their barretas. Others trudged off loaded with sacks of ore, the weight of which brought their muscles into tension, while the lighted rush-light which they carried upon their heads shone full upon their bronzed bodies, trickling with sweat, and their long floating hair. The sharp sound of the pickaxes striking the rock—the splash of the stones in the water—the voices of the miners—their shrill cries, and wheezy breathings, seemed at times to shake the very vault. The reddish glare of the candles reflected in the water—the dust—the vapor, which filled the place like a mist—the coppery veins which ran in all directions through the rock, all combined to increase the singularity of the spectacle.

After spending there a considerable time, I resolved to make my way to a lower gallery, at the end of which I was to meet the old miner. The ascent I was to make from that place did not seem so perilous as I at first imagined, and I should, besides, be saved going over the same ground. I requested one of the miners to conduct me to this place, as I feared to lose my way in the maze, the paths crossing and recrossing each other in all directions. I began, also, to feel the necessity of breathing a purer air, and followed my new guide with pleasure.

I went down an inclined plane so long that the joints of my legs knocked together, and arrived at last, worn out and breathless, at the extremity of the last gallery, which formed a right angle with the grand shaft, whose black mouth yawned right at my feet. This shaft was carried down still lower. The miner had not yet arrived. To a solitary workman, who seemed to have been forgotten in these vast catacombs, was assigned a most dangerous and frightful task. Close at hand, another shaft full of water was in process of being slowly emptied by means of an enormous bag of ox-hide attached to the cable of the malacate. When full, it was raised by means of the invisible machine twelve hundred feet above; but, being violently drawn in an oblique direction toward the axis of the grand shaft, the bag, distended with water, was in danger of being cut against the sharp rocks, had not the workman deadened the impulse it had received from the first motion of the malacate. On a narrow space between the two pits, in the midst of almost utter darkness, the peon held on to a double rope passed round the cable, whose two extremities he held in his hands; then, as he was pulled with a fearful rapidity to the mouth of the gulf, he let go all at once one of the ends of the rope, and the bag struck the opposite side of the rock very gently; but, had he made one false step, or let go the rope a second too late, he would have been dashed down an almost unfathomable abyss. I regarded the unhappy wretch who, every quarter of an hour during the whole day, hazarded his life for scanty wages with a feeling of pity and commiseration.

The bag had already ascended and descended four times; that is to say, an hour had elapsed, and not a single person had yet appeared. I must confess that, at the sight of the dark, gloomy shaft which I had to ascend, I felt my spirits sink somewhat; and as the old miner did not make his appearance, I pardoned him in my heart with a good grace, when, through the thick darkness, the cable of the malacate came in sight. A feeble glimmer lighted up the damp walls, and a voice, which was not unknown to me, called out,

"Halloo! friend, is there not a gentleman waiting here to go up by the tiro?"

I had scarcely answered that I was ready than a packet fell at my feet. I untied mechanically the cord which encircled it. The parcel contained a vest, trowsers of thick wool, a leathern baton, and a kind of plaited rope made of the bark of the aloe. I asked in some terror if the vest and trowsers were quite sufficient to deaden a fall of twelve hundred feet. As for the leathern baton and the plaited strap, I guessed their use at once. The workmen near me described the use of each of these articles. The woolen clothing was to keep me from being wet by the water, which shot forth in fine rain at certain places in the shaft. I was to attach myself to the cable by means of the plaited strap, and the baton was to prevent me from being dashed to pieces on the rock by the oscillations of the rope.

"Make haste!" cried my invisible guide; "we have no time to lose."

I put on the clothes with all speed, drew the cable toward me, and grasped it firmly with my hands, crossing my legs likewise over it. The peon passed the strap twice or thrice round my body and under my thighs, so as to form a kind of seat, tied the two ends firmly to the cable, and placed the baton in my hands. He had scarcely finished ere I felt myself lifted from the ground by an invisible power. I spun round three or four times, and, when I recovered from my astonishment, found myself already swinging over the gulf. A little above my head I perceived the legs of my guide, who was grasping the cable tightly. Although he carried a torch, I could discover but imperfectly his copper body, half naked, which, at certain moments, gleamed like Florentine bronze. However, I could make out his words quite well.

"Am I well enough tied to the cable, do you think?" I asked, seeing that not a single knot or roughness in the rope could prevent the strap that bound me from slipping to the bottom.

"Well, I suppose you are, unless the peon has done his business ill," replied the miner, in a calm tone; "but, should that not be the case, you can grasp the rope with your hands with all your might."

I clutched the cable convulsively. Unfortunately, I could hardly compass it with my two hands.

"How long shall we be in going up?"

"Twelve minutes commonly, but in this instance half an hour—a favor which I have obtained solely on your account, to allow you more time to observe the wonders of the mine."

"And does any accident ever happen in the ascent?"

"Pardon me. An Englishman, who happened to be ill bound to the rope, fell almost from the top to the very bottom, and so suddenly and quietly that a fellow-workman of mine, who was his guide, had not remarked his disappearance till he was at the top of the shaft."

I thought it best to ask no more questions. When I considered that five minutes had elapsed since the first movement of the malacate, I ventured to look above and below me. The shaft seemed to be divided into three distinct zones. At my feet a thick darkness dimmed the horror of that gulf which no eye could fathom; white tepid vapors rose slowly from the dark bottom and mounted toward us. Around me, the guide's torch lighted up with a smoky glimmer the green walls of rock, cut and torn in all directions by the pickaxe and the wedge. In the upper region a column of thick mist pressed round the circle of light produced by our torch, and shut us out completely from the light of day. At this moment the machine stopped to give the horses breath. I clutched the cable anew as if it were slipping from me, and shut my eyes to avoid looking downward.

"This halt is especially for you," said my guide. "I had forgotten that I was to tell you a story, and this affords me time."

Without waiting for my reply, the miner commenced a recital whose incidents and minute details could not, in a dangerous ascent like this, fail to be deeply engraven on my memory. The attention I gave to the narrator kept my mind from dwelling upon the dangerous position in which I was at the moment, and this cessation of thought I would have welcomed at almost any price.

CHAPTER III.

Story of the Passer of the Rio Atotonilco, Osorio.—Felipe.—The young Miner.—A Duel in the Mine.

"You are perhaps aware," said the miner, "that in passing from San Miguel el Grande[36] to Dolores, the traveler is obliged to cross the Rio Atotonilco. In the rainy season the passage of this river can not be made by any but those who know the principal fords. The stream is about sixty yards wide at the place where the road to San Miguel meets it. The impetuosity of its waters, and the heavy, imposing noise of its yellow waves, produce an involuntary terror in any one who requires to cross it at this place. On the opposite bank, a few cabins, formed of branches, shelter a few wretched families, who make a scanty living by piloting the passengers across by the fords, with which they are acquainted. Often, when the traveler on the other side sees the poor half-clad people wandering upon the bank, and throwing themselves into the water, he hesitates, turns his bridle, and gallops off. A sad event proved that too little confidence can not be placed in men who will not be contented with the scanty living they pick up at this dangerous employment. Some years ago, an old miner of Zacatecas, who had rendered himself obnoxious to justice, and had quitted that province, came and established himself among the passers of the Rio Atotonilco. This man, whose strength and prowess rendered him formidable, was marked as having a singularly unlucky hand. Once or twice, the travelers whom he had engaged to convey across had been ingulfed by the waters of the river. One stormy night, believing himself alone, and seeing a traveler on the opposite bank, the passer crossed the ford to tender his services. He was observed by one of his comrades who had followed him, but who had hid himself among a thick clump of osiers on the brink of the river for the purpose of watching all that passed. The passer, having crossed the river, soon reappeared, followed by the cavalier, whose horse he led by the bridle. When half way across he mounted behind, and, a few seconds after, the splash of some one falling into the water was heard. One only of the horsemen remained in the saddle. This man reached the opposite bank at a considerable distance from the hamlet, and was soon lost in the darkness. The witness to the crime was a young man whom the passer had, a few days before, brutally ill used, and he was now seeking an opportunity for revenge. Thinking he had found it, he threw himself into the water, swam after the sinking body, and soon succeeded in dragging the unhappy man to the other bank, whom, by his tonsure and dress, he guessed to be a priest. Overcome with fatigue, the youth fainted. When he recovered his senses it was broad daylight, and the body of the priest was gone—carried off, doubtless, by some charitably-disposed persons who had been passing. That circumstance did not check the young man's eagerness to make his deposition before the alcalde of the nearest village; but, though a pursuit was set on foot, it was unsuccessful."

My guide checked himself at this moment. As if we had arrived in the region of clouds, a mist enveloped us, which gradually converted itself into a fine and almost impalpable, but soaking rain. The torch sputtered, and gave forth a very feeble glimmer. The water ran off the bronzed body of the miner in streams. The machine again stopped, and I felt a new sinking of heart, similar to the feeling one has on the deck of a laboring ship, when he thinks that every moment he is going to the bottom. A short and terrible apprehension increased the fear of immediate danger which had come over me. I fancied that the strap which bound me to the cable had slipped, and I was sliding downward. I gave a convulsive shudder.

"Has the strap got loose?" cried the miner; then, looking downward, and seeing me always at the same distance from him, he continued, with imperturbable calmness: "A short time after the disappearance of the passer, about whom the strangest stories were noised abroad, a new miner came to work at Rayas, which is about a dozen leagues from Rio Atotonilco. He said he had served his apprenticeship in the neighboring state of Cinaloa, and by his good-humor and liberality (for he appeared to have other resources besides his daily pay) soon gained the friendship of all his fellow-workmen. My son Felipe was the one he attached himself to more than any of the others. There was, however, between him and Osorio (that was the new miner's name) a complete dissimilarity in age and disposition. Felipe was a rough, unpolished workman, jealous of the reputation he had acquired, and haughty as a miner ought to be; for we have no need of ancient privileges to distinguish us from the vulgar, our profession ennobling the right that is granted us. Osorio, on the other hand, who was twice the age of Felipe, seemed to look upon labor as a burden, and passed his time in thrumming a guitar and preaching insubordination to the mandones (overseers). However, their friendship might have been of a lasting nature had they not both fallen in love with the same woman. This was the first time that they ever had a sentiment in common, in spite of their intimacy, and this was what produced the first quarrel. They continued, however, in spite of these differences, to pay their attentions to the fair damsel; for, though she preferred Felipe, she could not give up Osorio's music and merry good-humor. The frequent absence of the latter gave a great advantage to Felipe. During one of Osorio's times of absence, a report spread abroad that the Cathedral of Guanajuato had been burglariously entered, and that a monstrance of massy gold, adorned with precious stones, had disappeared from the place in which it was usually put. This sacrilegious theft struck the clergymen of the town with horror; but all their exertions to discover the daring robber were in vain. In the absence of Osorio, Felipe had succeeded in gaining the first place in the affections of the maiden to whom both had been paying their addresses. Her parents resolved to marry her to him, as it would tend to cut short the incessant quarrels that were ever taking place between them. The wedding was to take place in a short time, and all the friends of both families assembled at the young woman's house to celebrate their betrothal. Brandy and pulque flowed profusely, and music enlivened the feast, when an unexpected occurrence brought every thing to a stand-still. A man stood in the midst of the guests; that man was Osorio. Every one knew his violent disposition, and his sudden appearance caused all to tremble. Felipe alone remained cool, and waited, knife in hand, the attack of his rival; but he, without putting his hand to his belt, advanced into the circle, and apologized for having come without an invitation; then, taking a guitar from one of the musicians, he seated himself on a barrel of pulque, and began to improvise a bolero. This unexpected event caused a general surprise, and the merriment was redoubled. The party, interrupted for a moment, became more boisterous, and it broke up to assemble again on the eighth day afterward."

Here the narrator paused. We were gradually approaching the mouth of the tiro, as I could discover by the light shining through the fog which still enveloped us; besides, the higher we got, the gulf below appeared more frightful.

"Do you know what distance we are from the bottom of the mine?" cried the guide. "Five and a half times the height of the towers of the Cathedral of Mexico."

To confirm this assertion, the miner drew from his belt a bundle of tow steeped in pitch, which he lighted at his torch. My strained eye could scarcely follow it as it slowly descended the pit like a globe of fire, till it gradually became small as one of those pale stars whose light scarcely reaches our earth. The voice of the miner, who again began his recital, turned my mind away from this reflection.

"From that night on which Osorio showed himself at the betrothal, Felipe was annoyed in a thousand ways by some unknown hand. On the very next day a blast was fired close to him, and covered him with fragments of rock; another time, when he was at a considerable height in one of the galleries, the rope to which he was suspended broke suddenly. These attempts being unsuccessful, vague assertions began to be bruited abroad, accusing poor Felipe as the thief who had stolen the monstrance. The brave young man was unwilling to recognize in Osorio the author of these foul calumnies. His eyes could hardly have been opened to the evidence that he was his calumniator, had not a young miner, who constantly watched Osorio, and who had lately entered the mine, apprised Felipe of the snares that were laid for him. Felipe resolved to seek his revenge. On the evening of the day on which the marriage was to take place (for all this had passed in less than a week), Osorio and Felipe met in the subterranean galleries of the mine. Felipe reproached Osorio with his treachery; Osorio replied by recounting the injuries he had suffered; the two then drew their knives. They were alone and almost naked; their frazadas were their only shields. Osorio was the stronger, Felipe the more agile; the issue of the combat was therefore uncertain. All at once the young miner of whom I have spoken threw himself between the two combatants. 'Allow me,' said he, to Felipe, 'to punish this sacrilegious robber; my claim is anterior to yours.' Osorio gnashed his teeth and threw himself on the young miner, who stood grimly on his defense. The two then began to fight by the light of Felipe's torch, who had now become a spectator instead of an actor. With their frazadas wound round their left arms to hide their lunges, they commenced the combat. Perhaps the struggle would have been a long-protracted one had not the young miner adopted the following stratagem: he took such a position as allowed the covering on his arm to sweep the ground; then, behind the veil which masked his movements, he slipped his knife into his other hand, and gave his adversary a mortal wound. Osorio fell. He was drawn up by the grand shaft in a costal.[37] By chance a padre happened to be passing the mine at that moment. They besought him to come and confess the wounded man; but scarcely had the dying man and the padre looked at one another than a cry of horror broke from the priest. The holy father had recognized in the wounded man the passer of the Rio Atotonilco. Osorio discovered in the priest the man he thought he had drowned, but who had escaped as if by a miracle from almost certain death. After that, by the investigations of justice, many mysteries were cleared up. The passer of the Rio Atotonilco, the sacrilegious robber, the miner of Zacatecas, and also of Rayas, were one and the same person. The garrote did justice to the crimes of this wretch, and it was his hand you saw nailed to the wall in the grand square of Guanajuato. I must now tell you what became of Felipe. The providential recognition of the victim and his assassin was soon noised abroad, and a few hours afterward a band of alguazils appeared to arrest the miner who had stabbed Osorio. Unluckily, on that day Felipe had quitted his work sooner than ordinary. I do not know by what fatal mistake he had been pointed out as the murderer of Osorio; perhaps it was an additional token of good-heartedness on that caitiff's part—at any rate, the alguazils came to seize him. The victorious combatant had escaped, and I need not tell you that this mortal enemy of Osorio's was no other than the young man whom he had ill used, and who was a witness of the crime he had committed on the Rio Atotonilco. Had Felipe remained under ground, the alguazils would not have ventured into the inner workings of the mine, for the miners would not have suffered any injury to be inflicted on a comrade in their fueros. The alguazils perceived the young man in one of the courts of the mine buildings, and immediately set off in pursuit. Felipe saw he was lost; but he resolved to die a miner's death, and not suffer himself to be dishonored by the touch of the bailiffs. Having arrived at the brink of this very shaft quite out of breath, 'I will not be insulted as if I were a vile lÉpero,' he cried; 'a miner is more than man; he is the instrument whom God delights to employ!' Then, with pale face and gleaming eyes, he leaped over the balustrade surrounding the shaft, and disappeared in the black gulf which now yawns beneath your feet."

The miner paused, and the light of his torch grew dim. High above our heads, at the mouth of the shaft, appeared the first gleam of daylight, like the pale blushes of early morning. The impression which the miner's story had made upon me was so great that I could not help trembling in every limb.

"It was very nearly ten years ago," said the miner, in a hollow voice, "since Felipe threw himself down this abyss, and I have never ascended the shaft since, and that has been often, without having a strong desire to cut the cable."

And the madman brandished a large knife, as if he were preparing to carry it really into effect. I would have called aloud for assistance, but, as in a frightful dream, my tongue refused to perform its office. My hands even refused to grasp the rope. Besides, what good would it do me? the cable was going to be cut right above my head. I threw a mournful look at the pale light which was tinging the green walls of the shaft, and listened to the indefinite noises which told me we were slowly approaching the haunts of men—the dusky daylight appeared so beautiful—the confused noises above seemed such delightful harmony. At this moment a peal of subterranean thunder burst up under my feet, and the mine roared through its many mouths like a growling volcano. The compressed air being inclosed in this enormous siphon, a powerful blast, equal to that of a strong whirlwind, shook the cable like a silk thread, and we received several severe bruises against the rocks. The torch was blown out; but, luckily, the terrible knife slipped from the miner's hands, and went whirring down the shaft.

"Cascaras! a new knife gone, worth two piastres," cried a voice, which I immediately recognized as that of Fuentes. I had scarcely pronounced his name ere a great shout of laughter burst forth right above me. It was Fuentes indeed, who had come down to serve me as a guide, and play the part of the old miner. The extreme eagerness I had shown to get rid of him prompted him to this kind of revenge.

"Do you know, SeÑor Cavalier," he remarked, "that you are not easily frightened? In a situation such as would have tried the nerves of the bravest man, you did not even condescend to shout for help."

"Certainly not," I replied, with an impudence which surpassed his own; "you see you have only made yourself ridiculous by trying to frighten me."

The malacate now stopped; we had finished our ascent. Desiderio was first unloosed, and I waited my turn in feverish anxiety. When the strap which bound me to the cable had been untied, I could scarcely keep myself from fainting outright. I soon recovered my senses, however. I pressed the earth with a kind of rapture. Never had Nature seemed so beautiful, so resplendent, as on that day.

In the interval that passed while our horses were getting ready, Fuentes, who had resumed his gaudy dress, stood silently by, and I took care not to be the first to speak. My foot was already in the stirrup when an old man came up to me. I could scarcely recognize, in the person whose dress vied in richness with that of Fuentes, the old miner whom I had seen a few hours before kneeling at the altar.

"You will pardon me for having broken my word," said he to me; "but my work detained me longer than I expected. You must have heard the explosion in the mine: it took place not half an hour ago."

"True," I replied. "I have been also told a touching and very mournful story."

"My boy behaved nobly," replied the old man, raising his head proudly; "and you can tell in your own country that the miners are a race by themselves, and that they know how to prefer death to dishonor."

I have seen the gold-seekers in the state of Sonora, and could not help admiring the kind of grandeur which characterizes their physiognomy, for every thing in the desert takes the largest proportions; but in the towns the type of the miner was far from exercising upon me a like fascination. The whimsical and capricious character of Fuentes, and the immorality of Planillas, had brought about this disenchantment. The story I had heard, while it helped to make up my mind partly about the class, proved that the miner had not quite degenerated: the vices of Planillas, and the oddities of Fuentes, like the dark shades in a picture, disappeared before the austere figure of that old stoic who had bidden me farewell with such haughty expressions, and I forgot Osorio only when I called Felipe to remembrance.

CHAPTER IV.

Rencounter with Don Tomas Verduzco.

I fancied a favorable moment had at last arrived for taking leave of Fuentes, for whom I entertained no good feeling, though a regard for myself caused me to conceal it.

"What!" said he, "are you going to town? I am going there also; and you will find it more cheerful to have a companion by the way."

We set out. Daylight was fast ebbing away, and it was doubtful if we should reach Guanajuato before nightfall. Desiderio kept up a continual flow of talk about the sayings and doings of the miners, and what an excellent profession he belonged to; but I took no interest in his conversation, and inwardly imprecated the bore whom I could not shake off. All at once he stopped, and struck his forehead with the palm of his hand.

"Voto al demonio!" cried he. "I have forgotten the unhappy devil for these two hours, and he may have bled to death by this time."

"Whom do you refer to?"

"Planillas, to be sure."

Almost at the same moment Fuentes went off at a gallop. I had now got a capital opportunity of ridding myself of him; but my curiosity prevailed, and I hastened after him. When we had arrived at a place not far from where we had that morning met Planillas plunged in grief, sitting on the carcass of the mule, Desiderio paused, and made a gesture of surprise.

"I don't see any body," I said.

"No more do I, and that's what astonishes me. True, he must have been tired waiting. It is very shabby of him; and another time I won't believe him. However, it is more than probable that some charitable person has removed him, for he had excellent reasons for remaining there till the sounding of the last trump."

"What has happened to him?"

"Look!" said Fuentes, pointing to the earth dyed in blood, and to the mule which the vultures were then preying upon. The miner added that, in the morning after leaving me, he had returned to ask some questions of Planillas, whose crooked morality made him an object of suspicion. Not finding either him or the mule at the place he had left them, he had followed their traces, and having arrived at the spot where we now were, found poor Florencio lying on the ground almost insensible, and bleeding profusely. He had then learned the truth from the lips of the wounded man. The mule, which Florencio and his companion were dragging to a solitary place, had died, it is true, in the hacienda de platas; but Florencio had never seen the animal till that day, and the cause of his tender solicitude was, that its flanks contained a number of silver ingots which Planillas had stolen and hidden there, so that the clerk of the mines might not discover them. The stratagem had been successful; but when they came to divide the spoil, after having drawn it to a still more solitary spot, a quarrel arose, and the result was, that Planillas got nothing but a couple of stabs from the ready knife of his neighbor, which had placed his life in great danger.

"You can guess the rest," continued Fuentes. "I could not help being sorry for the fellow, and went away, promising to send him assistance. I can't tell how it is, but I completely forgot the poor devil."

Fuentes was right in not boasting of his second impulse. As for this reckless indifference to human life, I had seen too many similar instances in Mexico to be at all astonished at it. I rode sadly back to Guanajuato, still in the company of Fuentes, who did not fail to stop me at the little pent-house in which the hand of the sacrilegious robber was exposed. This memorial of a barbarous justice reminded me that I had observed some imperfections in the miner's story.

"If I understood you aright," I said, "of the three persons, actors and witness, who were present at the duel between Osorio and the young miner, two are dead, and the third escaped. How comes it, then, that you can speak so positively about actions of which no person could have informed you?"

"Very simply," replied Fuentes. "I had forgotten to tell you that it was I who killed Osorio; it was I who witnessed the deed on the Rio Atotonilco. Don't think, however, that I am an utterly heartless bravo like that Don Tomas, surnamed Verdugo.[38] I have given, it is true, more than one stroke in my time; but in Mexico one must see a little justice done to one's self. Were you not yourself on the very point of killing a man this morning? And don't you think that a similar case might perchance happen to me?"

I shuddered at this rude speech, which reminded me of the danger I ran by remaining any longer in Guanajuato. The man whose life I had threatened that day was, I had no doubt, the murderer of Don Jaime. It may be easily imagined that I felt some degree of satisfaction in finding myself safe at the door of my hotel.

"Ah! you live here?" said Fuentes, grasping my hand; "I am very glad I know; I shall call on you to-morrow, and we shall have a pleasant day together."

"Well, to-morrow," I said. We parted, and I entered the inn.

My valet Cecilio waited on me with as much impatience as curiosity in his countenance. He had been long obliged to make himself acquainted with all the particulars of my life, but seldom had he been necessitated to follow me into such a maze of disagreeable incidents. I interrupted his questions by ordering him to have our horses saddled at midnight, as I wished to avoid both Fuentes and the treacherous designs of Don Tomas.

"After this," said I, "we shall travel only at night; it is better for the health."

By traveling at night and sleeping during the day, I reasonably hoped to baffle all pursuit. However, grown bolder by success, I returned to my ordinary habits; and when I came to the venta of Arroyo Zarco, it was midday before I arrived, after having passed the night at San Juan del Bio, and journeying almost the whole day. In this last stage of my excursion many sorrowful remembrances crowded into my mind. The plain, the venta, alike reminded me of Don Jaime. It was while musing sadly on this young man, so prematurely cut off, that I found myself, almost without knowing it, at the very spot where he had lighted his fire. Of so many dreams of love and fortune, what was left behind? A corpse three hundred miles away, a few burned sticks, and some ashes which the winds of the plain were scattering about! The supper-hour approaching, I went to pass away an idle hour, if not at the common table, at least in a room where all the travelers, and they were numerous on that day, were generally accustomed to take their meals. The company consisted, as it had done before, of a curious mixture of all classes of Mexican society, but I had no end in view as I had then, and accordingly seated myself in a corner after looking around me with a careless eye. I thought for some time on the cruel isolation to which foreigners are subjected in those countries inhabited by people of Spanish extraction, when the hostess pronounced, almost at my ear, the name of a person that made me start.

"SeÑor Don Tomas," cried the hostess, "here is a foreigner who was inquiring after you a fortnight ago, and whom I was telling you about just now."

I jumped up. In the man whom the hostess had addressed, and which a secret feeling in my own mind convinced me was the person, I recognized the sinister companion of Planillas. A cold shudder ran through my whole frame. I looked at the by-standers, but I could see on their countenances only that expression of apathetic indifference which makes a comedy or a tragedy a matter of mere moonshine to them. Almost immediately, and before I was able to prevent it, I was strained between two strong muscular arms. I disengaged myself without any ceremony, but he affected not to perceive the repugnance with which he had inspired me.

"Ah!" cried he, with an impudence seldom to be met with, "how happy am I at meeting here a cavalier who has won my entire regard! What! were you inquiring after me? In what can I serve you?"

"It was all a misconception on my part, I can assure you; but, if you have not forgotten your visit to the Secunda Monterilla,[39] you may perhaps recall to your memory your object in coming there."

"Do you live there? You can then boast that you have come more than two leagues in search of me."

"I have gone two hundred and forty to meet you," I answered, "and find you here at last."

The bravo replied by the same constrained smile I had seen his face wear the first time I met him. "I was seeking for a foreigner with whom I had been engaged to do a little business, and an error that I now recognize alone conducted me to you; but I know you now, SeÑor Cavalier, and will not commit the same blunder a second time. I only need to see a person once to remember him ever after. I never forget faces, even at the end of twenty years."

These last words were accented in such a way as to leave me in no doubt of the ruffian's meaning. I said not a word, but the bravo seemed to have repented of having shown any resentment. Turning to the hostess, and in a tone of rough gayety,

"Halloo, Patrona!" cried he; "you have doubtless supplied this cavalier, whom I hold in particular esteem, with the best fare your house affords?"

"I have supped," I said, interrupting him, "and I must only express my perfect satisfaction with our hostess's arrangements; besides, I am not hungry."

"Well, we shall drink to our unexpected meeting. Patrona, bring us a bottle of Catalonian brandy."

I was quite at a loss how to decline this forced invitation that prudence was urging me to accept, when Captain Don Blas P——, or rather lieutenant, for he held the former title only by courtesy, rose from the table, and advanced to welcome me.

"You are one of us, captain, I hope?" said the bravo.

The captain accepted his offer; but, emboldened by his presence, I formally refused.

"I am much jaded and tired," I said, "and would rather go to my room. Captain Don Blas, if your road lies the same way as mine, I should be happy to profit by your company, and to-morrow at break of day we might pursue our journey to Mexico together."

Don Blas excused himself at not being able to agree to my proposal by stating that certain very important business would detain him all next day in the neighborhood. He then sat down opposite Don Tomas, before whom the hostess had already placed the bottle of Catalonian brandy.

"Good-night, then, seÑores," I exclaimed. "I hope your slumbers will be as refreshing as mine."

I settled my bill, and, disguising my precipitate retreat under an air of haughty defiance, quitted the room with measured steps, the bravo all the while regarding my motions with indirect glances. I reached my room, fearing more the oily silkiness of Don Tomas than his anger. I found Cecilio sleeping on our saddles.

"Listen!" I said, awakening him. "Saddle our horses immediately without any noise; then bring them round to the back of the venta, and wait for me there. In a quarter of an hour I shall be with you."

That time had hardly elapsed when I quitted the hostelry without being observed. My flight at this time formed a striking contrast to that which I had shared so cheerfully with Don Jaime. I need not say that we covered the distance between Arroyo Zarco and Mexico still more rapidly than on our departure: the parts only were changed. The man before whom I was flying was that very person I had been pursuing so long. Thank heaven, the issue of this adventure was not tragical, as I feared at one time it would have become.

[38] Lit., poniard.