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The Captain oi the Rifles;

THE QUEEN OF THE LAKES.

A Romance of the Mexican Valley.

 

BY CAPT. MAYNE REID.

 

CHAPTER I.
AN onn ENCOUNTER.

“ Laurens-s! Socorro I Socorro I”

The cry reached my ears as I was sauntering
home to my quarters in the city of Mexico.
Tho h the words were Spanish, I knew it to
be “ obbers! Helpl”—a shout far from uncom-
mon in the Mexican capital.

To a soldier such appeal should not be in vain;
and drawing sword, ran in the direction of the
voice. It seemed to; issue from a side-street—
narrow and itch dark; for it was a late
hour of the night, and only the dimmest of oil
lam flickered at distances far apart. Turn-
ing into the street, I paused to listen, expecting
to hear the cry repeated. Instead, silence pro-
found. The robbers had garroted their victim,
or murdered him outright!

No! The hush was ut momentary, quickly
succeeded by some angry words; then the hur-
ried trampling of feet with a clash of steel as
in the lay of sword-blades.

Gui ed by these sounds I ran on, soon to
reach the nearest of the lamps, by the light of
which I made out the figures of two men leap-
ing about and lunging at one another with
bared bla es. They were to all appearance, en-
gaged in a. deadly combat, and so earnestl as

preclude speech, or even shouting. By t eir
dress they were Mexicans, one wielding a re. ier,
the other a common machete; and that he
had not long before thrust one another throng
was because both had been shielding their bodies
with something wrapped around the left arm—
one a cloth cloak, the other a serapé.

Just as I got up, he with the macheté made a
slip on the stones, and the rapier was about be-
ing pushed between his ribs, when, with a down
out of my cavalry saber, I broke the slender
blade in twain.

The man thus sand from what looked like
certain death, and further safe [3 his adversa
being ractically disarmed, wo d, I sup ,
kee h 3 ground, and proceed to explain t ings.
Imgad, soon as feeling himself fairly balanced
on his feet, he gave a grunt of relief, and dart-
ed oif into the darkness, leaving me to settle
scores with the other; whom, from his gettin
the; better of the fight, I took to be the assa' -
an .

Facin square to him, with saber upraised, L
cried on :

“ Surrender, or I cut you down!”

“To you, Seflor Captain, I surrender with
the greatest good will; all the more readily,that

ou ve left me but a lame weapon with which
further defend myself. Let me tell you, how-
ever, that ou’re laboring under a mistake, and
in this lit 1e affair have taken the wrong side.
For which I shall expect you to make good m
ld watch, that scoundrel has carried of! wit
im. But for you I should have recovered it,
besides sending the fellow to a place where he
welli‘ldn’t’have the chance of picking any more
ets.

“You were not the a gressor, then? It was
you who cried ‘Socorrolg

“ Of course it was. I shouted at first, when I
felt a hand tugging at my guard-chain; in the
darkness I thought there might be half a score
footpads around me. Seeing only one, I could
ill brook being despoiled byI l'1:.f1m3lado, so I drew
to rotect my property. ortunately he had

'on of the watch before we came to

lows, and, thanks to {gear interference—well
meant, no doubt—he it now. So, Senor
Capitan, as an officer and a gentleman, I trust
to your seeing the time-piece restored, or what
to me will be the same, recouping its cost. It’s
one of Lesada’s best, and stood me twenty do-

blows."
surprise was alread great, it was not
lessen b listening to his extraordinary
h. e ludicrous side of it first struck me,
and I was disposed to treat the whole thing as a
est, at the same time inclined to resent it as an
importinence. But during our brief dialogue
we had sauntered into the main street, where
there was a better light from the lamps, and b
this making closer scrutiny of the man I saw t
would be no Lei-Sting matter should I re com-
liance with ' demand. I had by chance seen
him before, and knew he was an officer of the
Mexican army; one of those we had taken me-
oner during our brief campai in the V ey
previous to the capitulation o the city itself. I
may here mention, that the army to which I be-
longed was that of the United States—invaders,
conquerors. and now quartered in the enemy’s
ca ital. Many of these, our prisoners on
ro were also residing there; associating w th
us, their captors, in a semi—friendly way—some

altogether friendly, others maintaining a
haughty, suspicious reserve. They met us at
the monté tables, sat side by side in the theaters,
and hobnobbed with us in the drinking saloons,
which under Yankee patronage had 5 rung up,
mushroom—like all over the city. t further
chanced that I knew this articular individual
both by name and title— aptain Rafael More-
no, a soldier of good standing, with the repute
of bein ready to call out his man if occasion
require . So that if I did not get restitution of
his watch or make good the value thereof, I
might look for a challenge from him; which,
pliiinsoner though he was, I would not dare to de-
0 e.
I may truthfully say, it was no thought or
fear of this which influenced me in assenting to
his conditions. For 1 did assent to them, after
a moment’s reflection, soon as discovering that
his tale was true, and I was dealing with a eu—
tleman. My reason for doing so was two old.
First, the justice of his demand. Clearly had I
hindered him from recovering the contents of
his filched fob—twenty doubloons’ worth; and
as clearly was I in honor bound to see the
amount made good. My second reason was of
a quite diflerent nature. In addition to know-
ing the name of this Ca tain Moreno, with his
character as a soldier, was further aware of
his being one of those Mexicans friendly to us,
by their fellow-countrymen contemptousnly
termed “ A ankieados. ’ There were many
such amen be up r class—the familias prin-
cipales—w o, weaned out with constant] recur-
ring revolutions and the rule of the SWOI‘( , would
have been glad to accept citizenship under the
banner of the Stars and Stripes. Considering
all this, without further hesitation I consented
to his terms, saying: .

“Well, senor, twenty doubloons is a large
sum of money—rather unpleasant having to
part with for a mistake- especially one meant
as an act of humanity. l3nt you say the watch
cost you that, and taking your word, I agree
eitheg1 t3 get it restored, or pay you the amount
spec e .

I might as well have omitted the former
clause, and paid him the cash down, or taken
him to my quarters and there handed it over;
for as to finding the pick ket, that- was all
moonshine. In the city of exico, at this par-
ticular time, thieves were as thick as black-

mes.

“ Just what I would have cted of you!”
was the Mexican’s rejoinder. ‘ For although I
haven’t the pleasure of a personal acquaintance
with El Capitan Maynard, as you see, I know
his name, and something besides, which I need-
n’t speak of now. If I mistake not, we’ve met
at the Fonda de Espiritu Santo, several times.”

“We have; I remember you well.”

“Muy bien, C’apitan. And now I have an-
other roposal to make, which if you accept
with li e good-will, we shall meet t ere again,
and in a more friendly manner.”

“ So prefaced I could not do otherwise than
acce t—even without knowin what it is.”

“ t is this, then: if you don t find the footpad
and recover in reloja—two things as unlikely-
as any probabilities may be—I shall still insist
on your paying the forfeit. But not in cash,
unless you prefer it that way. I would far ra-
ther have it disbursed in payment for a supper;
to be eaten by six gentlemen; half of them your
friends, half mine.”

“A eedl” I cried, instantly closing with his
conditions, the liberality of which was in keefii-
ing with the character I had heard of t e
man.

“Buenol That’s settled; to me in a more
satisfactory way than before. And now, sefior,
ma I be an exchange of cards?”

6 exc ed them; and after some further
words, mutu y warm sealing our new-formed
friendship, we bade “ linenas noches!” he turn-
ing toward the city, I continuing on to my
quarters—a sort of suburban outpost, by the

aseo de las Vigas.

 

CHAPTER II.
THE VISION or rm: PABEO DE ms VIGAS.

WHILE sojourning in the Mexican capital, I
was a frequent promenader on the Paseo called
“Las Vigas ” w ich lies on the eastern side of
the city. It is a public drive, ride, or walk, as
you may wish it; and though by far the pleas-
antest, not the most fashionable—this being the
“ Paseo Nuevo ” sometimes named De Bacardi:
from the Italian employed in laying it out. It
is on the opposite, or western side; for in the
Mexican metrgpolis, as in London the west end
is that favor by fashion, while the east ls
more the dwelling—place of the people. But, as
in London, there are also “ slums ” and dan-
gerous dens in the very center of the city.

At a certain season of the ear, that of
(Manama, or Lent the Paseo uevons for-
saken; the éh’te of societ transferring its
patrons to Las Vigas. hen the latter is
crowde with handsome e uipages, gallants on
horseback, and well-dresse promenadersafoot.
Only for a few days does this mtrusxon of
grandeeism continue, the brilliant throng disap-

 

 

pgaring as suddenly as it showed itself, leaving
s Vigas not quite deserted, but in occupation
of those to whom it more exclusively belongs—
the denizens of the east end, shopkeepers and
proletarians.

In this, its normal condition, I liked Las Vigas
the better; for then and there one saw the
Mexican people chcz cum menus, their native
customs and manners unaltered by foreign in—
fluence; their national costumes free from any
mixture of the ouh'e mm: ‘

Alongside this interesting drive runs the canal,
Santa Anita, which unites the navigation of
Lake Tezcoco with that of Xochimilco; thence
lassm on into the Laguna de Chalco. It is, in

act, t )0 main water-way by which the rodnce

of the south-eastern portion of the alley is
conveyed to the capital. Not a canal, in the
European sense of the word, since it has neither
tow—path, nor the ordinary kind of canal boats
to be towed. Instead, the craft that navigate
Santa Anita are, for the most part, flat punts
of_ the bread-basket pattern, propelled by poles,
With scarce a stick of difference between them
and those which came crowding round, and ob—
structed the brigantine of Cortez. And not
much more difference in their crews: the same
bronze-colored, black-haired men; for all, or
nearly all, who dwell around Lakes Chalco and
Xocllimilco are Indians of the Aztec race—their
blood unmixed as when Moctczuma and Guati-
mozin reigned over them. It is they who chiefly
manage the traffic of the lakes, carrying thelr
commodities to the markets of the ca lital.

And such commodities! Think of ‘eI'es, with
her riches; Flora, with her charms; Pomona,
with her treasures—you can see all there. One
boat will be laden with golden heads of maize,
from the Chalco plain, or it may be ch’ih‘, fmjolcs,
and gm-banzas; another carries the produce of
a tropical clinic —thc (icrra calicntc—fruits of
countless kinds and colors, bi'ou ht on mule-
back, and as often on man’s bac , across the
southern Sierras, many a long league before be-
ing launched upon the lakes; a third transports
a reight the product of the tierrn templada—
the Valley itself—kitchen vegetables, fruits and
flowers, some of them grown in gardens which
float upon the surface of the water!

Something besides is seen in these boats, on
which the eye may fond] rest—female beauty,
oft of the rarest kind. or many of the dar —
skinned daughters of Anahuac are fair withal,

sessing such charms as those of the beauti-
ul maid, Malinchc, who made captive the heart
of Cortez.

Standing by the side of Santa Anita, gazing
down u n the boats, as they pass to the market
of San omingo, at these berry—brown damsels,
with roses entwined in their crow-black tresses,
and other roses on their cheeks; with lips red
as the blossoms of the grenadine—oft parted in
smiles, displayin snow-white and regularly-set
teeth between; listening to their merry laugh-
ter, or it may be a song; perchance seeing them.
dance, to the tinkle of guitar or 'arana—one
who has been witness to all this wil not wonder
at my preference for the Paseo de las Vigas.

Luckily for me the place was near, almost
contiguous to my uarters; an old dila idatcd
barrack, the qnon am ruurtel of a exican
cavalry regiment, in which for four mortal
months I was condemned to dwell. The
detachment I had charge of, a com ny of U.
S. Mounted Rifles, had been assignet to it, and
there, nolens volens, we must abide.

A residence at first not at all to my liking;
and I must confess that for a time I scarce did
honest duty by my command. Far pleasanter
was it to idle around the Plaza Grande, or the
“Street of the Silversmiths;” and this pleasure
I too much indulged in, during hours nocturnal
as diurnal. But only for the first fortnight or
so; after which came a change in my predilec-
tions, thus brought about:

One morning, after dismissing my men from
parade, I was sauntering down the Paseo, now
and then casting a glance at the canal, along
which the country boats were passing to the
at . As usual, in many of them were women
an young girls, having charge of the vege-
tables, frult and flowers; some even handling
the cars or paddles. In the market they would
pres1de over the sale of their commodities, as do
some pretty J ewesses in Covent Garden.

Most of their faces I had repeatedly seen be-
fore, and gave them but a cursory lance. One,
however, hat was new to me, cal ed for some-
thing more—nay, demanded it. It was that of
a girl, not long entered on her teens, but as
much a woman as would be one of our cold
Northland assin out of them. Her bust, ra-
ther decoletce, fhrou h thin camisa, that so
scantily covered it, s owed the rounding of
maturity; while above rose a neck smooth as a
quail‘s, supporting a head of shape symmetri—
cally classic, to which both face and features
were in correspondence. Her long black hair,
plaited and coiled cable-like over her crown,
was encircled by a wreath of white flowers, the
blossoms of the cacnlo-wtschil (blumeria), the
favorite flower of the Aztec Indians.

I had looked upon queen wearing her jeweled
crown, and duchess under her gemmed coronet,
but never saw I queen or duchess who could

compare, either in dignity or grace, with that

 

 

 

 

I .___.._..WMI.._.4~IM. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

. r-xr‘st—

everybody knew that.

. then 5”

sim )le daughter of a Southern land, her head
euti lctcd with the flowers of her clinic. She
seemed, in truth, a Very vision. a thingr ethereal:
or, if earthly, something up: n which Nature had
ex )elltlt'tl its choicest handin ork.

it was some seconds before I could take my
eyes oll‘ her; but the boat was gliding onward.
and I cast a quick glance over it to see, how she
was :u-eompanied. That glance gave me no
very sat isl'aemry feeling. A tine-looking young
fellow was rowing the craft—a suit of skilf—
he. like herself. being,~ an Indian, and as she, of
distinguished mien. “'as he a brother, or might.
he be her lunband! Though but a lwardless

'outh, in Mexico I had seen husbands young as
lie, and wiws younger than she—hundreds of
them! Whatever the relation to her, he was to
be envied.

“ Who is she?" I asked of a showily-drcssed
man who stood beside me, his eyes, as my own,
seemingly riveted on the girl.

“ Citing/(ow .' what‘s that to you?” was the re—
sponse in Mexican liillingsgate~ho who made it
drawing his purple "mag/H up over his chin, and
stridingr sulkily away.

I thought of following and calling him to ae-
count for his rudeness: but it just occurred to
me that the question I had asked was one I
should not care to make public, as it might be
by my grounding a quarrel upon it. It was not
unanSWered, howevqu another bystander, who
had heard it put, volunteering the res louse:

“.Umt ehimIm/iem, S'fmr Cupi/un, ' said he,
raising tho hat from his head, and courteoust
saluting.

“Thanks!” I rejoined. returning the bow of
this more obliging individual, whose somewhat
threadbare habiliments Were in singular eon-
trast with his graceful bearing. “ L'm indebted
to you for politeness, but as yet not much infor-
mation, since I haVen‘t the most distant idea of
what a chinamperu is. ‘I’erhaps you will eiH
lighten me!”

“ Con macho gusto, s’fior ,' though I thought
lint, as you siy you
don‘t, I take pleasure in informing you that a
('hfflunllfl’l’U—tll‘ ehinuni/wrtl, if it be a Woman
——isono’who cultivates a chiuumprl, otherwise,
called a floating garden.”

“ All! now I comprehend.
that?”

"No; not the cultivating part. That is her
father’s a ll'air, assisted by the brother—the mu-
chueho you saw rowing the boat."

Her brother, then! I breathed freely.

“ lIer business,” continued my informant, “is
to sell the flowers in the Mereada de San Do—
mingo where they’re just taking a cargo HOW.
All! she‘ll soon get rid of them. No end of pur-
chasers at her stall—young rims. ready to pay
any price she may ask. (VI/'rui .' I‘d like myself
to be making money, as fast and easily as La.
('hinrtni/wrrl hello."

“ 011! she is called the beautiful chinannwra,
is shof”

‘* Usually 90. by us in the city here. At home,
and among her own people, she‘s better known
Lr’ Reina (14' [us Log/US.”

“ The Queen of the Lakes! A very prettj and
poetical ap iellation. But why sostyled. pray f"

“ Well, s nor, that isn’t so much of a mistake .
as one might suppose. There‘s many a queen
upon the throne, who hasn‘t any better n'etcn-
sions than she. For she is of royal blood, from
some ancient Aztec prince or king; at least, so
I’vo heard said. However, it isn‘t altogether
for that they call her queen, but as much on ac—
count of her grand wavsand great beautv. She
is Ver beautiful. you‘ll admit that, ()apitan’!”

“\ hy, yes: fairly gowl—looking," I rejoined,
with an assumed air of imlill‘erenee, for I did
not want him to be aware ‘of the interest with
which she had inspired me. Then, continuing,
in the same careless way: “\thre might hcr
Lake Majesty livel”

“ With her father, of course, on their chinam-

, That’s in Lake UlllllCt).”

“The father has a name, I suppose; some
Aztec cognomcu?”

“Oh! yes; he has that, I believe, among his
own people, of Whom he’s a sort of head man or
(-xwiqlle. lint, as you may be aware, our In-
dians m-o ()ln'istianim-d. and good (‘atholies as
any of us. Uf_course he’s been baptizwl like the.
rest. ln the city here we call him Don Tito, the
Alealde, as he holds that olliee in his floating
villufl‘.”

u There’s a whole village of these chinanipas

And does she do

“ l’ol' rho-In, s’no)‘ ,' more than one puebh‘fa. of
them in dill‘erenr. places around tie several
lakes. That of which the Senor Tito is chief
.magistrate is one of llIO largest, a row of huer-
ms nearly a mile long.”

“ Indeed? it must be a very curious collec-
tgion.q

“ It is all you say. Perhaps 'ourexccllency
would like to pay a visit to it! 1' so——”

. “Oh! no. no.’ I said, cutting the prolle
short. There was something in his manner I
did not exactly like. and I had got all the infor-
mation I then wanted. To giVe him his eongfi
1 added: “ Let me once more thank you for your
civility, in pleasant contrast with what re—

 

ceived from that surly fellow in the flue clothes."

Captain 01' the mines.

3

 

 

“ All! caballero; the coat don’t always make
the man, as your excelleney has no doubt proved
by experience. Though I am but a. poor devil,
I trust I know how to behave myself in a becom-
ing manner.”

As his dress betokcncd, he belonged to the
class indiil'creiitly styled [operas 0r pelados—
the. launroni of Mexico—beggars or thieves as
it may be, but with powers of conversation and
a grace of deportmcnt many a gentleman might
be proud of.

“ As for him,” he added, referring to the man
in the purple manga, “his rudeness to you,
S‘i‘ior Capitan, can be easily accounted for. ’

“ In what way I”

“ The old story. He’s enamorado.”

“ You know him, then!”

“Not much: but that I know. He’s in love
with Lu ’H‘Htl. to the Very ti )8 of his fingers, and
can‘t bear any one eVen to look at her.’

“ Indeed, can't he! Well, my good man, I’m
indebted to you for the information you’ve
giVen mc. Permit me to thank you with this.”

I held out a bit of silver, expecting to see his
eyes sparkle, and his fingers eagerly stretched
forth to clutch it. But I saw neither one nor
the other. Instead once more raisinr his bat—
tered sombrero, and giving it a grace ul sweep
round his head, he rejoinet : '

“ Marlins gmm'us, caballcro I But your money
I cannot take: gratitude forbids.”

“ Gratitude! For whutl”

“ For a service your cxeellcncy did me.”

“ A service I did you! You must be mistak-
en. my good fellow.
was, never Set eyes on you before.”

“ You have, .f’nor Capital]; and, as I say,
done me a service, worth at the very lowest 08- ‘
timate a good three hundred pesos. Ah! in a.
certain sense worth far more.”

“ \Vhen, and where?”

“No matter about the when and the where.
lieeontent to know that your humble servant
is grateful."

“ Certainly you seem so, but—”

“ lint," he interrupted, catching u the con—
junction, “ if you’re not satisfied with words,
giro me an opportunity to prove it by deeds.”

“ In what way would you?”

“ \Vell, S'nor Capital], in a way I fancy Will
be agreeable to you.”

Saying which he came close up, with a signifi-

 

So far as my recollection ;

cant leer on his swarthy features, and added, in ,

undertone:
how much you admire La bellu.
half an eye could see that

“Of course, eaballero, I’m aware ‘
Any one with ,
as you stood gazmg ,

down at her in the boat. flow, though I‘m only .

a poor devil, with a ragga] wrap over my shou
ders, I know a thing or tWo. Besides, I have
the honor of a personal ac uaintancc with the
Queen of the Lakes; an if your excellency
feels disposed for a little bit of flirtation—mm.
ens-Ha dc amor—I’m your man to bring it
about.”

“ Scoundrel!” I exclaimed, indigmantly rc-
pelling his proposal, at the same time turning
my back a )HD him and walking away.

Before I ad gone far, some instinct, curiosit
or otherwise, prompted me to take another loo
at him. (‘daneing over my shoulders, I saw he

llxed, the expression upon his features more of
astonishment than an 1rer. Possibly during all
his ex )eriencc as an a militate—for I took that
to be is calling—11c had never met with such a
rebuff.

CHAPTER III.
UNDER THE EYES or THE QUEEN.

FROM that day the Calla de Plateros had less
attractions for me, and the Paseo de las Vigas
more. Every morning at a certain hour, I
would find myself sauntering along the canal’s
edge, looking out for a flower-laden boat, for
that flower fairest of all—their Queen.

Nor did I look in vain. She came; though, as
I soon learnt, not daily, but only twice a week;
learning also to time my strolls to her periodi-
cal advent. The brother was always With her,
he being patron and sole oarsman of the skiff.
A handsome youth, as already said, with a cast
of features quite different from those I had ob-
served among the common pco 1e of his race.
By inquiry I had ascertained, t lat, so far, the
pelados story was true. They were of noble,
eVen rincel origin: could claim descent from
one o the zteean princes who figured in the
court of Moetezuma, and fell with Guatimozin.
There are many such in Mexico. Not so great,
then, the inaccuracy in her being styled Queen.
Had Cort/a7. never come there, she would in all
likelihood have been at least a princess

I saw her again, on several occasions—each
time only the more to admire her—till, at
length, she almost wholly engrossed my
thoughts, or made me think of little else than
how to engage hers in return.

A difficult task it turned out. and for long
seeming hopeless. I cannot recall the number
of times I stopped that flower-boat, purchased
bouquets, the costliest it carried, only to fling
them into the nearest ditch, as soon| as she was

'tobe

out of sight. All to no urpose; the can of
the Lakes was not to be t as wooed, oerlvlon. I
was but throwing away my time, as well as the
defigydbou ht flowers. d

a at ength grown ' ' of sum
when an accident occurred which g‘ve strength
to my ho s, hitherto feeble. n the army
whose uni orm I wore it was a ’ orous rule to
hold morning and evening para e, even upon
outpost duty, and however small the detach-
ment. It was done for the sake of discipline
and kee )in up an esprit du co 8; and of
course I ( to conform to the re tion. The
ground where I was in the habit of holding
mine was at the upper end of the Paseo, a wide
open space in every way suitable for the pur-
pose One dayI had just dismissed my men
rom this ornamental exercise—evening parade
it Was—and was wheeling my horse round to
ride off, when two faces caught my glance
showing above the bank of the canal—soon as
catchin , need I say fixl'III'E it? For one of them
belonge to La be la. e second was her bro-
ther’s, and I could see that they were both
standing up in their boat; could tell moreover,
that they had been so for some time, b the
skiff lyin motionless on the water. Evi ently
they had Teen watching our Sgialrade, wondering
at it, since this expression ' pervaded their
features. The may have witnessed cavalry
evolutions be ore, at not with such large
horses, and in their eyes giant-like! men. A
troop of Mexican dragoons, on their diminutive
mustangs, by the side of mine would have ap-
peared very pigmies.

Secin it was all over, the young Indian
drop down upon the midshi thwart of his
boat, and was making to pull 0 . But the girl
still kept upon her feet, her eyes bent on me, as
I fancied, with an expression of some interest.
It was the first time I had been so favored:
and, possibly, I thought of a reason. If wo-
man, savage or civilized can be at all won, the
suitor whose chances are best is he who may ap-
pear in the guise of the warrior god, and under
a panoply of armor. That, after a fashio I
represented this in the eyes of that Indian 3:1,
would be sham modesty in me not to admit he-
lievin . Hitherto she had known me but as
one of her many customers, officers as civilians,
who purchased her flowers, perchance paying

her pretty compliments 310 with their mono .
Now she saw me at the h of my troo hid!
a hundred lendid fellows in brilliant un orm,

whose mint 3 obeyed mine as the moved to the
words of command. Was it t ' had ' ed
me those glances of interest, or, as I wo d fuin
have believed it, admiration? Whether or no,
I felt as one who had achieved a triumph.

Sparring my horse close up to the canal’s
edge, and raising m ca , I saluted her. There
were no flowers in t e s if! now; it was return-
ing from the market, as a. matter of course
empty; so I felt rather at a loss for some sub-
ject to open conversation with. Possibly had
the brother not been there, I might more easily
have found one. Besides, he seemed impatient
one, which also aided in disco

me. ngrateful young rascal, after the many

‘ bouquets I had bought, and the score of
was still in 'the same place, standing as if trans— ‘,

 

 

paid him! However, I at length bethoug t me
of a theme which I hoped would detain him.
Addressing myself to t e sister, who was the
older of the two, I said:

“ Senorita, I envy you your home upon the
waters. I’m told you live upon a sort of float-
ing island; a garden growing only flowers. It
must be a very Eden! ’

“Oh, senor.” she rejoined seeming scarce to
comprehend my florid and flgurative speeches,
“ we live upon a chinam .”

“ Just so. And that’s the ve thing Iwish
to make acquaintance with. lThese gardens
alongside the canal here are not real chinampu,
’tii said. eC(‘icrtainly they age nott afloat.”

referr tosome patc eso parallelogram
form, with water-ditches between, on which
kitchen vegetables are grown. Theyelie alo -
side the canal, a short distance and age
lower end of the Pasco; little lions of e Mexi-
can capital, shown to strangers as the “chin--
am .

‘ They’re not,” emphatically pronounced the
girl’s brother, now for the first time a.
to become interestedin what was be sci _
“ Chinampasl” he added, with a scomful tom 0"
the head, “por Dias, no! They’re nothing m.
the sort.’

His professional amour prop" was evidently
touched.

“ I thought they could not be,” was my re-
joinder, spoken With a suav1ty still further to
conciliate him. “And that’s just why I’m I0
desirous to in a genuine chimnnpa.”

“ Paws caba ro ” responded the youth, who,
as most Indians of the valley could -
ish, even its idioms; “to do that you must go a
good way. There are none nearer than X0chi~~
milco, and they’re not much. The flnes‘. chin--
ampas, believe me, are our own; and they’re in
the Laguna de Chalco, a‘ little way bpyond.
Ay Dies, Lorita! that reminds me we must be
moving, or night will be down before we an
get thr’ough the acaloté tau-ta. Bmos lam
senor.

 

4

Beadle’s Dime Library.

-.~

 

 

Saying which he led hastily off—his sister
havint seated hggse f 3n the stems thwart—and
soon ey were yon speakin istance.

I felt some little disappoian by this abrupt
departure. I was half-expecting an invitation
to visit the water viii e, of which Don Tito
was alcalde. But my ' ppointment was less
hard to bear, as, fol owing the boat with m
eyes, I saw the girl looking1 back over her shou -
der once, twice, and a t ird time, when the
leafy branches of a Peruvian pepper-tree
droo ing over the canal, provokineg screened
her rom my sight.

“ At length—at last—I have reached her
heart!”

This to m self, as I sat in my saddle, thrilled
with triump nt happiness.

 

CHAPTER IV.
snavmo A scounnnm. RIGHT.

MY exultation was short lived; succeeded by a
feeling ve different. What was I doin ?
Making en eavor—my very best—to steal t e
affections of an innocent maiden, unsuspicious
of any evil intent. And what my purpose!
Was it honorable?

U to that moment I had never thought of

myself these questions. Despairin of
success, the had hitherto no pertinence. ut
now, with indled hope, they came before me,
like dro of gall poured into a cup of sweet-
ness, ad the ir been a flirt, or coquette, I
mibght have soug t 'ustiflcation in that, and pos-
si y found it. Bu she seemed the very oppo-
site; and was, from all I could hear—innocence
typified, simplicity itself. True there were the
innuendoes of the would-be gobetween, oft re—
called, but as often rejected with incredth .
To such as he, the dpurity of Lucretia he
would seem but pru ery and pretense.

If my reflections caused me pain, they also
did something to chasten me; and as I turned
my horse’s head toward quarte I had half

11 in mind nevermore to 00k for the
flower s ° hat carried the Queen of the es;
and if ible, tramp out the interest with which
she ired me.

 

A woman’s voice raised in cries of terror, or
distress! The voices of men, too—one of them
exclaiming in anger! I heard all this just as I
had reached the upper end of the aseo; the
cries coming from t e opposite, beyond where I
had last seen the departing skiff. Since then,
scarce sixty seconds had elapsed and in less
than as many more, I had wheeled to the right-
about, Eflloped down the drive to its extremest
end, w ere again the boat came under my eyes.
But now it was not alone. Another was by its
side, or rather a. little behind; in which last
there were three men. Both boats were movin
through the water, fast as their rowers cou!

rope them. At a glance I saw that they in

e skiff were being ch ; with the same
coup d’ceil taking in he class and character of
the pursuers—their costumes enabling me to do
so. They were dressed in the ordi rb of
rancheros, a little motley and eccentric, ut its
chief eccentricity was in a broad list of scar-
let cloth, half—coverin the crowns of their som-

. breros. This was dis ctive telling them to be-
long to the “Red Hats,”—-a ad of robbers at
the time acting with our army in the capacity
of scouts.

The whole thing was clear; at least so thought
I at the moment. The three, out for a row on
the canal, had come "across the flower skiff, and
having drank too much a ardiente were going
in for a lark with the In ' 11 girl. a

It was evident that the youn Indian on see-
ing them so intent had turn 'his skiff on the
canal and was pulling back for the Paseo to es.
cape them. As I caught sight of the two boats
the were ap roaching the central int of a
wi a sheet 0 water—a sort of pon ,through
which the canal here the i still con-
tinuing to call out in alarm; the y shouting,
too, but more in angry remonstrance. Neither
her cries of terror, nor his words of indi -
tion had any effect on the trio of Red ats,
who, the instant after, shot their boat up along-
side the skiif, and gra pied on. Then, one of
them standing up, lean forward to lay hold of
the girl. He would have succeeded had she sat
still. But she did not; instead, suddenly rising
to her feet, she girung over into the water! The
boy, letting go 'is oars leaped after her; both
in a panic, as I su .. _

For two or three seconds they were under; du-
ring which, short as the time was, I felt anxiety
indesdlcgiggie—believing them in danger of be-

0, not they! I was soon relieved by seeing
them once more rise to the surface, and, side by
side, like a pair of otters, come swimmin on
toward the bank. If necessary, they could ve

dived to it!

But they were not at rid of the Red Hats.
He who had attem to la hands on the rl,
having leaped into the ligh r skiff, and ta en
up the abandoned oars, was rowing after, still
seeming determined to effect his 11 .

Hesuoceeded, sofarastooverta e or but not
till she had climbed out on the bank, where she
stood panting and dripping; he, with a brutal

oath upon his lips, having bounded upon it be-
side her.

Again eluding him, she made an effort to con-
tinue her fii ht afoot, but the wet skirts cling-
in around er limbs impeded her, and at the
third or fourth step she tottered, and fell to the
earth. She had no need to flee further. As she
rose to her feet again she saw that her safety
was secured. For by this I had got upon the

ound, and taking a firm gripe on the collar of

d Hat’s coat, had the rufiian at my mercy.

At first I thou ht of detaining him, till I could
call u some of t is guard, and send him to our
guar -house prison. But still believing it only
an affair of drunken deviltry, it occurred to me
that I might as Well bestow the chastisement at
once, and in a way more ap ropriate to the of-
fense—I would duck him! e spirit of frolic
had got into me, too, and I could not resist it.
I was still in the saddle, 111in horse close to the
canal’s edge, and the Red at against the right
stirifip, firml retained.

“ good ellow,”Isaid, laughingly, “you’ve
been thinking too much spirits, clear; you’ll be
the better of a little water to mix them.”

At which I lifted him from his legs, and with
an outward jerk shot him over into the canal.
It was all done in a minute’s time, and in anoth-
er I saw him swelter out on the opposite side.
There, after shaking himself and giving me a
glance of direst malignity, he joined his two
coadjutors who had alread landed from the
boat—all t ree disappearing hind some bushes
near by.

Not ill then was I aware of the mistake made
in letting him of! so easily. In the hurry and
excitement I had never thought of looking in
the fellow’s face; but when I now saw that ace
across the canal, with the demon—like scowl up-
on it, a fancy flashed into my brain that I had
seen it before. Not fanc either, but a clear
and distinct recollection. or he was the same
man who so rudely responded to my inquiry
about the chinampera; differently and less ele—

tly attired it is true, but certainly the same.
Inflow regretted having let him go with such
cheap casti ation; for recalling w at the pela-
do had sai about him in connection with the
girl, and what I had myself seen, it now oc-
curred to me that he intended something more
serious than the snatching of a kiss. It was too
late, however, to repair my mistake. But I
knew where the Red Hats were uartered, and
could look him up there, which registered a
resolve to do.

W hil' e still standing with eyes fixed on the re-
treating ruifians, I fe t my hand taken hold of,
by fingers soft as if gloved with silk; then
something yet softer and warmer pressing
against it. he lips of the girl; she was kissing
'tl

“ Gracias, salvador mio !” she exclaimed.
“Mil, mil gracias! I can never enough thank

ou. No, never!”

“Don’t of thanks,” I said in response
to them b0 h; for b this the brother was also
volubl pouring fort his gratitude. “I’m only
let the scoundrel escape. If Ihad known
who it was—”

“Oh, senor!” rejoined the young Indian, in-
terrupting, “he’s a bad, bad man—4m ladron,
as all those are with the red bands on their som-
breros. But I needn’t tell you that. We didn’t
know he was one of them, because we’ve seen
him dressed quite differently. And it isn’t the
first time he has insulted my sister. He’s_ done
it on several occasions, at the market and in the
streets. Oh, senor! I m so glad you tossed him
into the canal. He deserved that, and a good
deal more.”

“ More he shall get, in due time'
on it. But, how came it about?

on may rely
ou met them

alon the canal onder?”
“ 9 did, se or. They came out from the
side in their bi boat an then made straight

toward us. ew his face soon as I saw it,
though he is in other clothes; and suspectin
they were after no good, I turned the skiff an
rowed back, Ah, caballero! how fortunate for
us you were here. Santissima! we sha’n’t
come an more to the cit until—until—”

“Oh, on’t let that hin er on; on need have
no fear of him, hereafter. shal take care to
have him put in a place where he won’t trouble

on again. And n0w, seiiorita,” I said, ad-
dressing myself to the 1, who, with the wet
enagua close clingin her finely—develon
figure, recalled the s tue of the Dripping e-
reid “you’re in danger of catching cold. If
you come to my quarters, possiny I can find
something dry to wrap around you. ’ _

I was answered by a stare of astonishment
from both, the brother laughin as he rejomed:

“She has no need of that, se or. Lorita don’t
care for a wetting, any more than myself, We
live on the lakes, as you know, and are in the
water almost as often as out of it. Catch a
cold indeed! No, no; not from a dip like that.”

“ Well, let me call one of my men, and send
him round for your boat l”

The skid had drifted down the canal, and was
now lying against the opposite bank, at some
distance off.

Again the young Indian gave out a laugh, the
sister smiling in conce .

 

 

rt
“What, caballero!” he exclaimed, in a tone

of surprise. “Send a man all the we. round
for the beat! No need of that, as you s all see.
Come, Lorita! Nos vrimos !"

Saying which he plunged back into the canal,
she after him; but not till having once more
taken hold of my hand and kissed it. Then,
with another expression of gratitude, and an
Adios! spoken in tone which seemed to say, “ I
should be sorry to think it the last,” she took
the leap without fear!

With wondering eyes I watched them as they
swam on toward the cliff. Very mnphibia they
appeared—she with her long black tresses, now
escaped from their coil, trailing on the surface
behind—an image of Undine, or some siren of
the sea!

Soon both were in the boat, which, once more
moving to the oar—stroke, shot across the sheet
of open water. As it again glided out of sight
entering the narrower canal, and the girl looked
back as before—but now with gaze fixed and
continuous—all m fine resolutions seemed to
melt as snow un( er the summer’s sun; and I
rode back to quarters resigned to continuing the
acqliiatintance, but with no intention of trifling
wit er.

 

CHAPTER V.
THE BOBBERS PARADE.

As already said, the “ Red Hats” were a band
of brigands, who had been taken into our ser-
vice to act as Scouts, and sometimes employed
on escort duty, on the principle of settin the
thief to catch the thief. It was a fancy 0 our
commander-in-chief, General Scott, who had a
penchant for such buffoonery. Nothin good
came of it, but much evil, in addition to its be-
ing a disgrace to us on the score of humanity,
quite as much as the employment of blood-
hounds—or red-skinned savages. For these
Red Hats were robbers pur san —“ sulleadurcs
a (-avallu,” or highwaymen. T ere was a com-
plete partida of them, well mounted, armed
with lance, saber, carbine and istols. and va-
riously ap eled—the on y uniformity in this
respect bein the strip of scarlet cloth on their
hats. This istinctive badge was not of their
own adoption nor for ornament, but worn by
orders, and for their safety, lost our soldiers,
mistaking them for the enem ’s guefillerus,
whom the close] resembled, might shoot them
down at Sight. nmitigated ruflinns they were,
every one of them; abandoned by God and their
country—which last they had themselves aban-
doned, betraying it in a double sense. Their
chief, a certain Dominguez, usually called
“Colonel” (for, in truth, he had been such in
the Mexican army) was a remarkable man.
Of medium size, rather stout in build, but active
withal; full-featured and swarth , the bean
ideal of Mazzaroni, or the “dev' ’s brother.”
As usual, he had a tale of wrong to account for
his having taken to the road; and I can testify
to his having some redeeming qualities—~in—
domitable coura e certainly.

As I had a slig t acqifiaintance with the ban-
dit leader, my duty living1 more than once
brought me in contact with im, I placed reli-
ance upon this to facilitate my pu which
wasto search among his followers for the one
who had offended, have him arrested, tried, and
punished for the outrage.

It was still not too late that da to set about
it, and the sooner the better. mi ht be in
time to catch the on] rit before he cou d change
his dress; and with t 0 wet suit on, as it were,
in flugrante dclictu. So, taking one of my ser-
geants along, I rode over to where the Red Hats
were quartered, in one of the suburbs on the
north side of the cityx

Dominguez received me with due courtesy,
and as much grace as Duval might have shown
to a duchess while stripping her of her ear-rings.
In answer to my requisition, he said:

“Con macho gusto, Capitan. ’Twill give me
the greatest pleasure to parade my beauties be-
fore you: t ough I fear you won’t find him
you’re looking for among them.”

“Why do on think that!”

“ Because he description you’ve given of him
don’t seem to correspond with any one in my

rtida.”

“But he was dressed exactly as they, with
the red band around his hat; asalso the two who
were with him.”

“That’s likely enough, but counts for nothing.
As you are aware, Ca itan, under the wgis of
your army, my Red ats Just now enjoy some

ittle priVile es, not exten ed to others of the

rofession. ‘or which reason there are counter;

eits of them abroad, who by gross misbehavior
do miich to give my honest fellows a. bad

At this little jeu d’e rit the bandit gave a
loud ffaw, nor could help laughing myself.

“ owever,” he continued, “we shall see
Whether he of whom you complain be a real
Red Hat, or only a spurious imitation. Hola!
there, Raymundo! Sound the asamblea!”

The bugler bra ed out the “Assembly,” and,
quick as could ave brought my own men to
muster, the salteadores were on the around of
their parade;_ where, at a word of command
from their chief, they formed in line of single
file. There were about sixty of them; and, r-
haps, three-score sets of features more for id-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Captain of the Rifles-

 

 

...» - .._. M

ding man never saw ranged side by side. They
resented every phase and ty of the ruflian;
rom the cowed, craven thie , with eyes cast
down or averted, to the bold, unblushing robber

- who looked you straight in the face.

“ Now, caballcro,” said their chief, after I
had finished my inspection of them, “can you
make out your man s”

“ No,” I answered; “ he’s not among them.
Is this the whole of your band, colonel?”

“Every sinner of them, with the exception of
the sick and some wounded—in 'our service,
Sei'ior Lapitan. Perhaps you‘d like to take a
turn through our hospital; though I can assure

ou the individual you describe isn’t among my
invalids either.”

“ It’s not necessar ,” I rejoined. “I will take
your word for it, c0 onel.”

By this I had become certain—less through the
bandit’s assurance than from some other circum-
stances—that neither he, whom I had soused in
the canal, nor his two confederates belonged to
the fratemit of Red Hats; and I left their
cuartcl with ut a poor pr ct of ever again
setting eyes on the scoundrel was in quest of.

 

CHAPTER VI.
THE roarm'r SUPPER AND ITS REVELATION.

IF I was not likely ever more to meet the mas-
ueradei' in the Red Hat, still less chance was
t ere of my encountering the foot (1 who had
carried of! Captain Moreno’s watc . Of seeing
him again I had long since given up ho s—in-
deed, never had any. For even if broug t face
to face with him in the broad dayli 'ht, it was
doubtful whether I could have identi ed him.

In the Mexican capital, at that particular
time, there were no detectives to ferret out and
recover stolen 1property. For the regular na—
tive police but been for certain reasons dis-
placed, our soldiers doing their duty; and to

ave set these in search for a thief would have
been like utting a pampered house-dog on the
trail of a ox.

I had never thou ht of doing so; instead, had
admonished the exican officer of my design
to satisfy his other condition—in fact sent him
the invitation to supper. As it so chanced the
appointment was for that same night, and after
leaving the barrack of the Red Hats, I rode di-
rect to the place where we were to sup, the
Fonda dc Espiritu Santo.

As agreed upon, there were to be six; and on
reaching the hotel I found the other five await-
ing me—their involunta host. Not unwilling,
however; for by this I ad become better ac-
quainted with Captain Moreno, and would have
been only too pleased at extending such hos-
pitalityto him, without thought of its being a
penalty paid for having made a mistake. And,
after_all, he as much as myself was host on the
mii'mn' th odd] posed rt

wasra or an -com su rpa y,
three American officerg—for the twopIehad in-
vited were such—and three Mexican; Moreno’s
friends being also militarins, all of them our
prisoners on parole! In all probability we had
met on the battle-field but a few weeks before,
and there did the best we could to kill one an-
other. Now we were faceto face at a supper-
table, again doing our best not to take one an-
other’s llVeS, but to make them mutually agree-
able. While sitting down, we had thought of
the change of circumstances, so ludicrous we all
laughed at it. 0

And such a supper as that was! For I may
here observe, that the Spanish coc‘ina beats the
boasted Cuisine Francaise “into flts;” while
the former is yet inferior to the Cocina Mexi-
cana, by reason of many dishes of Aztec origin
this last had added to its list, unknown to the
cookery books of the Peninsula. For tongue
tickling, palate-gratifying combinations of spice,

arlic and capsicum, the chef of a first-class
exican restaurant stands unrivaled.

To such a repast we sat down; and for a time
the conversation was on neral topics most of
a serious nature. But w en the wme began to
make us merry, it changed to lighter themes; at
length, as a matter of course, coming to women.
Not much about the moral attributes of the fair
sex, however; on] their personal qualities and
charms, those of ifferent Countries being com-

ared. We, the strangers, wore of course loud
in praise of the sefioritas of the country; while
our Mexican friends, not to be outdone in com.
tesy, one and all declared theflgnew no ladies
sobewitchin 1 beautiful as “ Americanas,”
and added fireno, who knew I was not an
American, “ Las Irlandeses.”

In this connection, it was but natural that our
thoughts should extend, with our s . h also, to
the real indigenous article of feminine beauty,
as exemplified in the Indian. _

“ Fm todas!” all ugly) emphatically 1pm-
nounced one of the exican officers, Colone Es-
pinosa. “I’ve never seen a pure-blooded Indian
girl yet, who could be honest y pronounced beau-
tiful.”

“Then you’ve never been throu h the San
Domingo flower—market,” inte , Moreno.

“Yes, have 1; scores of times. What is there
to see in it?”

“ Oh! if you’ve seen nothing already, ’twould
he of little use pointing her out to you.”

 

5

 

 

“Pahl I su pose you mean La chinam era
bella—otherw1se the ‘ Queen of the Lakes?’ ’

“ You are right, Espinosa; so far as to whom
I allude; but wrong in the imputation ou cast
upon her by your word of derision—a1 gether
wrong. The Queen of the Lakes is a girl of ex-
cellent reputation, which I have never heard
called in question. ’

“Ah! you seem to be well acquainted with
her,” rejoined the other, with a laugh, and in a
tone of innuendo.

“ I am,” said Moreno; “or, at all evonts, with
her character. It so chances that my uncle
owns the land 1 ing along the lake shore where
her father has is chinampa. Indeed, they are
in a sort of way, his tenants. So, as you see,
gentlemen, I speak with some knowledge of the
girl, and can assure you she’s a; pure as the
snow on Popocatapec. ’

During t e ear part of this dialogue, into
which the two had rifted, I felt not on] pained,
but indignant, with a desire to clutch t e throat
of the questioner. I succeeded in restraining
m temper, however; and listening on, became
c in again.

“ What you say Captain Moreno,” remarked
the third of the Mex1can officers, a uiet, re-
served sort of man, “ isborne out by t e girl’s
demeanor. I’ve purc bouquets from her
myself—who hasn’t? And for one who sells flow-
ers in a public market, receiving such flattery,
too, her modesty is indeed remarkable. On a
Ear with her beauty; and that, I think, Colonel

spinosa himself will scarce call in ques-
tion.

“Quite a red-skinned Venus!
well !” exclaimed the other.

“ Venus, or not,” retortcd Miranda, “your
description is not accurate when you call her
red-skinned. She’s a pure- looded Indian, I be-
lieve, or at least so it’s said. But I could name
some of our ladies called blancos ay, some who
boast of their sangre azul, with complexious
not a shade lighter than hers. The only red
perceptible about her is the coral of her lips
and t e carmine on her cheeks.”

“Bravo! bravissimo I” cried the colonel, clap-
ping his hands, as though app auding an act-
or on the stage. “ By m wor , Captain More-
no, you’re el uent on t e charms of thisabo-
riginal damse. Were I to report your fine
5 )eeches in a certain quarter—say to one of
t ose same dark—skinned senoritas of the sangre
azul—you might be called to account for them,
in a way you wouldn’t like. Ha! ha! ha!”

The other officer joined in the laugh. It was
evident Moreno had an amanté, about whom
they both knew something.

“ Oh! report and welcome amigo mic!” re—
turned the captain, speakin in calm confidence.
“ In love affairs, thank the rd or my luck, I
have a clear conscience and noth to fear.
As for this Indian ‘rl, i admit I’ve ut slight
acquaintance with er; for all, I believe her to
be what I’ve been told—incorruptible, and
worthy of her title of Queen.”

“In that we differ diametricall ,” rejoined
the colonel. “For I have bou ht 0 her many
a thi for my button-hole, an been told noth-
ing. ut something I’ve seen, which contra-
dicts all your exalted ideas of her.”

“ What?” asked every one in a breath, myself
among the number; 1 more ea r than any for
the answer, though I tremb ed to hear it.
“ What have you seen, Colonel inosa ?”

“Why, only the Queen of the Lakes—this
modest, mode girl of our friend Moreno’s show-
in —in close and apparently familiar, converse
With one of the most accomplished sports in the
city of Mexico.”

‘ Who?” asked Moreno, in a tone proving him
still incredulous of the aspersion cast upon the
Indian girl.

“ You ma not know him,” answered the colo-
nel; “and i isn’t likely you do, any of ou.
He’s not often seen upon the streets by day] ght,
but may be h night, in a certain casa, up one
of those shad;r streets behind the cathedral.
There I’ve met him myself, unfortimatclytoo
often; since he’s as clever at tossing dice as in
deluding the murhachitas.”

“ Let us hear his name, an how !”

“I’ve heard him addr b more than one.
He has several, no doubt, to su t time and place.
That he goes by in the mblin -house is sim-

Lucretia as

Ely Senor Hilario, with he Don it, of course.
or he affects the fine ntleman, dresses stylish-
ly, so el ntly ind , that amen his associ-

ates he is own as ‘El Guapo.’ H su wear
is the costume a la ram-hero, with a toqm'lla of
pearls round his hat, and a cloak of finest broad-
cloth upon his shoulders—a purple manga.”

I started as if an adder were under 111 chair,
involuntarily repeating the words, ‘ Purple
man !

“ hi You know the gentleman, mflorl” said
the colonel, turning to me. “ Well; I hope your
experience of him has been pleasanter han
mine, and you’ve not been the victim of either
his wked cards or loaded dice.”

“ o, Colonel Espinosa,” I answered, with an
effort to conceal my emotion. “I have no ac-
quaintance with the individual you speak of.
Only your having mentioned a purple mange

remlledm moo withamauuudsr me-
whatstrango tmg cos.” so

 

I stopped here, not caring to be further com-
mumcative.

“Well,” pursued the colonel, “if you ever
meet him, you’ll be face to face with one of the
cleverest rogues in the city of Mexico; where, I
admit, Mexican m lf, there are no lack of
them. But I haven t yet said all I have to say
about him. In addition to his other accomplish-
ments, he has the reputation of now and then
doing a stroke of business on the roads—in short,
of being a saltcador, the scene of his operations,
as I have heard, lying amon the mountain
passes by the old pyramid of 11 Juan de Teo-
tihuacan. Now, gentlemen! judge for your—
selves, whether Ive spoken too freely of La
chinampera belle—Captain Moreno’s model of
innocence—after seeing her in the company of
such a character. ”

“ You have seen it? Where? When?”

It was Moreno h1mse‘ lf who gut the questions.

“Twice at her flower-stan in the San Do-
mingo market; once in a street adjacent- and
once again on the canal by the Paseo las 
where she was in her boat goinfilhome. True,
on the last the brother was wi her; though
she didn’t seem to make much of his resence.
Being his senior she controls him. 
1310 appeared to be quite on good terms with

119.

“Ag dies!” muttered Moreno, with some-
thing of a sigh, evident] pained by these reve-
lations. “ wouldn’t ave believed it. My
uncle’s people who know a good deal about the
girl have a 'gh opinion 'of her character.

till the maybemstakeninthatregard;nor
would it so stran Beauty such as hers, is
sure of bein ed from all sides. Come,

amigos mios Bu pommwguldgoogt $1:de

able subject, and
I toast him! ’

“Our host of the ni htl” cried all,iillingtheir
glared 3‘23; in" “P- u

or ps, e roposer, on e

me to back my toastwith a  “ all
then, twill be a short one. Onlyto say, I should
be content to lose a Losada watch once every
year, if ’twould bring about such a friendship as
the last I lost has done with a ° t of leasure
like this. Now, Caballeros! al 5am»
Maynard I”

 

CHAPTER VII.
nasqumnma m m erru: own m.
Norwrrns'unnnvo the warmth with which
mygmstshad toasted me, and thewine Ihad
dran ,Ifelt ill at easedurin therestofthe
evening. The revelations us accidentally
brought out were food for bitter reflection, and
I was glad when the hour arrived for the sup

per-iparty to break up.

B dding “buenas noches” all round we sal-
lied forth into the street. Outside the hand. I
parted with my twO brother officers, whose
quarters were in a different part of the city. I
was about for my own afoot, as m
horse had been sent back with the so

when I observed that Espinosa had walked
the same way, and like myself, alone.

A thought struck me, and hastening my steps
I soon overtook him, saying:

“Sefior Coronal! Pardon me for if
you’re on the way to your sleeping uarters ’

Despite his cynicism on the subjec of woman,
he was by no means of a morose nature ra
the reverse; and, as I knew, would not resent
the libert thus taken.

“ Or,” continued, without waiting his y,
“might it be that you think of once more -
in our luck at the aura you spoke of l”

0 question took him a httle aback—not
strange it should—but being an old soldier ao-
customed to surprises, he soon recovered him-
self and Ian hingly answered:

“:VVell,adca ero, hinfihyourtsecond aux-mi“:
youvem eastraig t ot. amgomg' to
place you speak of. But why do ask! II

tthat ouwish toaecompanyme ’

“ that—if you’ve no objection. ”

“ On the contrary, ’twill give me the greatest
pleasure to introduce you to La Lechuata, one
of the most infernal dens in our Meximn metro-
polis. Sayingwh'ich I save you from bani?
over with ngratitude, But by he way,” he ad -
ed, sudde y _stoppingan tmnhgohis e as on
me, “you’re in uniform! Santos ' I! didn’t
think of that.”

“ Does it make any difference!"

“Carambal yes' all the difference in the
world. Although the place in question as I’ve
already said, is rather (Egon and you’d them
see costumes of man ds—eome fantastic
eno h—that blue froc of ours, with the yel-
low acings and eagle but us, would draw a‘
crowd of c ctcrs around you, not over-db
80995! to politeness. For you must know, Senor

apitan, that the frequenters of the Little Owl
are fearfulliygtnotic, and no Amerimnoe are
admittcd— own to be such."

“I; that case I cannotgowith you,Isnp-

pose
He reflected a second or two, then said:
“Rave on any objection to a little bit of

m ‘ uira 
‘ o in 6 east. Imbmitm lfto
guidance,  willdoasyou direcZ” your
“ThenIthmklcanmanageitwifiiwtmuch

Inna...» . 'r

 

 

6 Beads->78, Dime Library-

difilculty. We travel met the place where your
humble servant finds odgment; and there, if I
mistake not, I can make you fit toappear before
tin company we’re to mix with.”
By this we had reached the end of a little
st et into which he turned, I of course along
.  im. After assing several houses we
foams toa stop at t 9 door of one, which he
opened with a latch—key. It being now after
midni ht everybody was abed, and the windows
all in kness. Striking a match and lighting
a small lamp, he conducted me up a. single flight
of stairs, then into a room of $26 su ‘ciently
Jar , but with a very low ceilin , which I knew
to a the entresuelo—for in the ouses of Mexi—
can cities, as those of Paris, the second story
is latitppropriated to apartments of an inferior
c .

“ on see, caballero,” he said with a
laugh, 0 rving that I scrutinized the room,
which was somewhat scantily furnished, “ We
Mexican officers don’t dwell in palaces. And,
just now thanks to your kindness in having
conquered us, we’re rather worse lodged than
usual, seeing that for some months past our ay
has been stopped. 80 I can’t offer ou muc l in
the way of either eatables or dri ables; but

' ibly, a copita of Catalonian brandy would

to your likin ? It will serve to fortif you
for the little a air we have in hand. can

've vou that, of best brand.”

“ Thanks, colonel! just what I should like.”

While he was getting out the bottle and
glasses, I completed my survey of the apart—
merit, clearly his dining, drawing, and bed-
room, all in one. A catré, or camp-bed, stood
in one corner; in another lay a militar saddle
With a lance leaning over it for the co onel hm
oommandedaregiment of “ nzeros.” Against
the wall were suspended a saber, pistols, belts,
and other accouterments, while the only table in
the room showed a few articles of crockery-
ware'with the débris of what must have been
a .ra frugal repast. Good-humoredl al-'
1 to this, he poured out a lass o the
Cat an, leav' me ti) drlink it while 1;: welnt
rummagin ina ‘ eat em por man an 16
had gegd from glider the bedstead. Out of
this he w a. ranchero rig—velveteen jacket,
calzoneras, calzoncz'llos, waist—scarf, and all.
These, with a broad-brimmed sombrero, which
hung ona nail behind the door, completed the
dress I was to wear in the aming—house. As I
had worn the like before, needed no instruc—
tiOns about puttin them on, and in a trice I
stood arrayed in t e picturesque national cos-
tume of Mexico.

“Per Dies, Sefior!” he exclaimed, after in-
specting me. “You look as much Mexican as
myself 1 Lucky your skin and hair are darker
than’s common among your countrymen, most
I’ve seen beinggiieros (blonch. nd as you
speak our tongue like a native, defy any one
to, detect the counterfeit. You Americans don’t
exactly gesticulate a; we; therefore, let me
drape your arms with this.’

Saying which, he took a sore c from of]? the
camp-bed, where it had been oing duty as a

uflt, and drawing it upon my head, let it drop
overm shoulders.

“New for Lechuzita!”

JAshort walk soon brou ht us to the Cello do
ObIS'pO, which runs along he rear of the Cathe-
dral, and continuing up this we turned into a
dark narrow street, in which was the case do

é. .

0 Little Owl pretended to be a pesada, or
Inn; but there was no ' or other insignia to
uphold the pretense. there had been we
could not have seen them, as there was no light
from windows—there being no windows—while
the great entrance door was closed as that of a
jail, which it resembled. Dark as it was, my

‘ ctor easily found his wa between the
II e—posts, and gave a knock. 0t double or
loud, but a single tsp of the ntlest, to be
only by ears which might in listenin .
Sue therew for almost instant] I co (1
:36 s uflliing ommhgmthe sa-
n‘soon teravoceas y:
m tones?” (Whoisit?)
migo 1:13 la patriai” (A friend of the coun—
was t 0 response 0 my companion.
era was a short interval of silence, the
inside still seeming to hesitate about. open-
the door, when the colonel, becoming im-
t, called out in a more commanding

 

u
‘u
l

 

. “Presto muchacho! Abré la puerta ! Soy
cl Coronet Espinosa.” (Quick, my lad! Open
the door! I’m Colonel Espinosa.)

“Duane!” ted the voice; and with that
the‘wm 3 center amt; hu edoor turned
on its an weste nsi e.

“Pardon me, Senor Boronel, for havin de-
la ed you,” said the janitor as we passed in);
“ t .as you know, one needs be cautious m
theses‘tran 0 times.”

“Comm 41! that’s uite true,” rejoined the
oflcer, With a la h, ding, “and at all times.
hombre, when itting any one under the

win of the Little (Lorain th 1 l, jest,
0 common g ecoones

echoed his laugh?and we went on inward. . s

yet‘neither lamp nor candle throw ray of light

I

! around us; but my companion scenicd to know
ever paving—stone in both passage and court,
and I, followed the sound of his footsteps. Cross-
iugacorner of the patio we stepped up toa
rickety wooden corridor w iich ran round three
sides of it; and following this fora few )aces
stood before a door, through the kcyhoo of
which we at length saw light, at the same time
hearing voices inside.

Before entering, in ' conductor, laying his
lips close to my ear, said in a whisper:

“Now, cnballcro, a last word. I trust to
your skill in reservingyour incognito. Should
any one chal euge you as being an Americano,
you must stoutly deny it. chnr you’re not the
man he mistakes you for; but one lion Elczario
Tres Villas, a hm-icmlarlo from the State of
Guadalaxnra. Luckily I have a card of the
said Don Elczario, which will assist you in the
personation. Here, take it.”

Slip in the bit of cardboard into my hand,
he ushed; in the door and entered. I had no
di culty in followimr him now the opencddoor
letting out a flood of light which filled the court
to its furthest corner.

Thcre had been loud talking before we stop-
ped inside, with some disjoiutcd phrases atin-
tervals, pronounced in louder tone. as “ Cabal/o
en la ucrta.” “ Soto ’HUIZO,” which might henn-
intelhgible to a stranger, though I quite under-
stood them, recognizing the call Words in the
game of numtfi.

The buzz of conversation ceased as the occu-
pants of the room turned thcir eyes upon us, the
new-comers. Only for a sccmnl; then it was re-
sumed, half drowning the monotonous (Tics of
the game, which had continued without inter-
ruption.

here was no mistaking the character of the
place. At a glance I recognized the regular
“hell ”; and not much more was nocdcd to con—
vince me that there was good reason for the
precautions my companion had takcn, and the
cautions he had given me. Thcre wcro fifty or
more men in the room, which was a large solo,
lit up with numerous lamps, its brilliance in
striking contrast with the durkncss outside.
They were dressed in many different kinds of
costumes, as a mixed assemblage of Mcxicans
must needs be. I saw around me uniforms of
every arm, with insignia denotimr all ranks,
from the general down to the at crvz or sub-
lieutenant. But most Were in civilian dress;
some, as myself, wearing the garb ranchcro,
others in broadcloth jackets and trowscrs of the
ordinary cut, with not a few carrying on thcir
shoulders the coarse frczmla, thcir scowling
brows shadowed by sombrcros of felt, glaze, or
straw. Excepting the oiliccrs, and not all of
them, I ncvm' looked upon so many sinister fa-
ces—save once, when making my inspection of
the Red Hats—and between those and these
there was not much to choose. Nearly every
one resent might be takcn for a bandit nor
won d an great mistake have been made in so
believininim, since a "oodl y proportion of them
were rofessnmal robbers, highwnymen, and
foot )w s, as I afterward learnt. This explain—
ed their ardent )mtriotistn, or its n‘ctcnso, as it
gave them rotection against the laws they had
offended— or the time absolving them from the
ban of outlawry. And who could blame the
Mexican authorities for permitting this sort of
thing? Certain] not we, the Americans, who
at that moment ad a band of these same saltea-
dores in our service, receiving pay, even potted
by our com mamlcr-in-chief !

Up to this time I had not told the colonel of
lanccrs why I wished to accompany him to La
Lechuzita. Nor did I now make him any the
wiser, he not seeming to care. For, soon as en—
tering the room, and shakiu hands with some
half-score individuals, his oh arm ' canuu'mlos,
who stepped out to greet him, he ok a seat at
the monté table, and commenced laying his
stakes. As I was in no humor for gamblin r,
and came not for such urpose, I immediate y
set about that which has enticed me into the
Little Owl—this bcing to find out, whether he
whom I had ducked in the canal were the indi-
vidual spoken of by Espinosn as Don Hilario,
otherwise “ El Guapo.”

Sauntcring round the saloon, smoking a ci '-
arrito with as much nonchalance as though
were the oldest hubifuc of the hell, Iscanned
every face. Several of them I had seen before,
in the cafes and on the strccts; luckily none
with which I was very familiar, or whose own—
er could claim acquaintance with me. And
none that in any way resembled that I had such
reason to remember.

Having at length lost hope of seeing him, I
thought of asking the colonel to forsake his

lay, and give me conm’as for us the street

oor, when that of the sale was pushed open, to
discover aman entcring the room—my man to a
certainty! But now with no scarlct band around
his sombrero, nor other insignia to show he was
one of the Red Hats. Instead, he was apparel-
ed as when first I saw him on the Paseo de las
Vigas. Ihnd no nccd to ask Espinosaif this
was Don Hilario, for, as ho step 'd across the
threshold thcre was another 1111 in the con-
versation, and I heard a man near me exclaim-

i :
nfiMira! mammal”.

 

 

Making (lircct for the monto table, he passed
close to where I stood, luckily without recogniz-
ing me. As a nullitcr of course I did not desire
his doing so. but the very reverse. At that mo—
ment identification on his side would have been
dangerous to me, and Don Elczario’s card of but
little scrvicc. El (iuapo know my face too well
to mistake me for tho liacicndado of Guadalaxv
am.

And now, having accomplished all that I had
come for, I wanted to be away, and would have
left La Lcchuzita on the instant, but for the ne-
cessity of waiting on him who had conducted
me thither. Something besides Courtesy com-
pellcd me to this.

Fortunately, for me at lcast, on this night as
before, the coloncl’s luck ran agnin~t him, and
soon all his checks, with the coin ho had ex-
changed for thcm, were ruthlessly raked in b
the claws of the croupicr. I was ruthcr glm ,
than othcrwisc, to see a couple of gold pieccs he
made free to borrow from me go the some way.
Then, accepting my excus‘cs that I hadn‘t an-
other "use on my crson, he rcluctantly rose
from t e gaming—tn no, and soon We were once
more outside the Little ()wl.

As we walkcd back to his lmlging, he asked
Inc, for the first time, wh ' I had been so desir—
ous to visit the gambling— muse, where I had not
staked so much as (1 ])(‘S4’/(( ! To which inter-
rogatory I made cvnsivc answer, saying:

“ ('llriosity, Senor Coroncl—thnt and the love
of adventure.”

“ Cusyn'ld!” he exclaimed. “ A rash proceed-
ing on your part, had you but known it. Let
me tell you now, senor, if in the place we’ve just
loft you had bccn rccognich as an oiiiccr of the
American army, at lcast a dozen machctcs would
have bccn run through your ribs, dcspitc all the
protcction I could have given you. Sunfissimu I
thcro were wolch there, who’d have bccn only
too delighted to tcar you limb from limb. Give
thanks to God you’ve got clear of them. Sin-
ccrcly may you say, as I on your behalf,
(II-acids a Dies!”

My visit to La Lcchuzita turned out less
profitable than I had cxpcctcd. I had gone not
ulonc to discover whcthcr Don Hilario was the
doublc of my Rcd lint, but if So, to mark him
«(ioyvn for future and closer inspection—which I

n .

All to no ulrposc, for, although I set a watch
upon the little ()wls, and for several nights
after kept a detail of guard ready to gripe my /
man, he came not there again. ;

 

CHAPTER VIII.
A STRANGE LETTER AND AN ARREST.

DURING our occupation of the Mexican Chi-p-
ital, the policing of the place, as already said,
was done by the Soldicl‘s of our army. Certain
regiments were em ploycd upon this delicate
dut ’, chief among tlllt‘lll the “ Iiifics’L-the men
of t llS arm being of a supcrior class, more intel-
ligent, bcttcr cducatcd, and, as a. consequence.
more trustworthy. Both the mouutcd and foot
companies were indill‘crcntly dctailcd for it;
the former, on such occasions, acting as infantry.
Of course we, their oiliccrs, took our regular
twcnty-four hours" (our guard duty—not rcgi—
mental guard, but ranging over the whole city.

About a week had cla sod sinCe our su per at
the Espiritu Santo‘md F was on duty as ‘ oil'iccr
of the guard.” The night had come on, and in
my pcrambulations~mit rcstrictcd to place—I
was spending an hour or two in that I doomed
plcnsnntcst—the “ Tcatro Nncional "—a thcater
at the time considered one of the flucst in the
world, takin rank with the La Souls of Milan,
or Ta *on of avana. Certainly, as I have seen
it—iil ed with the fashion of the Mexican cap-
ital, its palcos and dress circle occupied by the
dark-eyed, dark—haired scnoritas. rcsplcndcnt in
silk and sparkling with diamonds—I doubt
whether any theater or opera—house elsewhere
could present a much prettier array. Just then
a company of Spanish comedians had possession
of it—mOSt of the actors in Mexican theaters
being from Spain. As there was a distinguish-
ed “star” of the feminine specialty, named
Canctc, to up our on that night, the boxes were
lillcdby the ‘ familiasprincipnlcs.” and the flirt—
ing of fans, with flirting of another kind, was
somclhing for a stran rcr to see.

The play was “ )on Juan Tcnorio,” the
original of all the Don Juana, Giovannis, and
Czcsnr de Baznns; which, as cnactcd in Spanish
thcatcrs, occupies all of two nights; so that if
the first be a ‘ hit ” the manngcr may be sure of
a “ bumpcr ” on thc second.

This night chanced to be the second; and bc-
thcn two of the many acts of thoconfinuml
play I stcppcd out tothc front of tho lhcnicr,

ort re purpose of givmgsmno instruction to the
sentrics I hadplaccd thcrc. J ust as l had finished,
and was about to go inside again, a voice struck
on my ear, saying:

“ S’nor Capital)! may I havo a word with
your cxcwllcncy I"

As tln~rc was no onc elm rm , I know the
speech must bc mount for myscll‘: and turning,
I behold the smoker—~11. rugged fellow, “hum,
after a leek, I recognized. For it was the prlmlo
who had so politely answered my inwrrogawries

l
l

 

I?

or

i f

 

 

ww- —— ~m Wm

W‘mh. s. a: m..-

Captain of the Rifles.

'7

 

on the Paseo Las Vi as, and whose proffer of
further service I so I!“ ignantly rejected.

Iwas about to repel him as before, when a
thought restrained Hie—about the Indian girl.
Since the day she had imprinted on my hand
that kiss of gratitude so pleasant to remember,
I had not seen her. or yet her brother. Their
boat came no more to market; and, recalling
what the youth said, I had begun to despair of
its ever coming more, And'Iiere was one who
professed acquaintance with them. He mi ht
tell me something I was longin to know. n-
stead, therefore, of actinrriii o xrdience to my
first instinct, and driving lhim oil’, I said in re—
sponse:

“ Certainly, my good fellow. IVhat do you
wish to say ?"

“ Not much, senor; but first let me thank you
for the concession. At our last interview, if
your excellency can remember it, you cut my
speech rather short. I had reason to feel offend—
ed, and wouldn‘t likely be approaching you
again, if ’twere only on my own account—
which it isn’t.”

“ 0n whose, then?” I asked, my heart beating
quick as 1 put the question.

“That of one who holds your excelleiicy in
hi "ll esteem. Ah! more, worships—adores vou.”

t was not in man to do otherwise than I did
—reiterate my interrogatory in a changed form,
with most anxious alaerity:

“ Who?”

Nor was it in mortal man to feel otherwise
than I—liappy to the heart’s core, on hearing
the answer:

“ La. Reina. do. [as Lagos.”

On his giving it, I forgot all the disgust with
which he had originally inspired me, and was
but too glad to listen for what he had further to
say—even impatiently demanding it. His air
and bearing betokeiied his having more to com-
municate.

“Well, your excellency,” he continued, evi-
dently noting,r nu eagerness, “ as I‘ve told you,
I haven’t much to sa '. In this matter, my duty
is more in the way 0 doing. I’ve been employ-
ed as post-carrier. So let the muchm-hita speak
for herself. Perhaps you may listen to her,
with greater patience than on seem desirous of
according to me.” At which he drew something
white from under his frezada, adding, as he
handed it to me, “ Una (Ii/ll'fittt.”

Leaving him, I walked up to one of the lamps,
by the light of which I read the superscription
on the ‘ belletita”—a quaint affair, covering
nearl the whole of the envelope. It run, or
ramb ed thus:

“For at Capt/an, UmIimandanle de lo» dragones, en
martel (warm at Paseo de La: Vigas.“ (For the captain,
in command of the dragoons quartered near the Pa-
seo Las Vigas.)

My men were not dragoons; but the mistake
was understandable, an the letter, as I knew,
meant for myself.

Breaking it open, I read:

“Suson MUY ESTIMADO: When last I saw you,
you said you Were curious to see. a chinampa.
f you‘re. still in the same mind, perhaps you would
come and see, ours. My father and brother Will both
make you welcome; and need 1 say myself, also? Ah,
Senor! when I think of what you did for me, how
could it be otherwise? Salvador mio/ I shall ever re-
member you with graiitude, and would be so glad to
see you ain. But that cannot be, unless you come
here; for athei- will not let me 0 any more to the
city. Say you will come then-gr my sake .’
“Learn.
“Ibstacriptum.—Our chinampa is in Lake Chalco,
be 0nd Tlalliuac. But you won’t need an ' one to
gu do you, as the bearer of this who is an old friend
of father and knows the way, will bring you in his
boat "

I read this note with mingled emotions, va-
ried and at variance with one another—surprile,
pleasure and pain! Surprised at its having

‘ on written at all, and ilmsed, flattered by
the sentiments it contain , ; but ained at their
.bi'zarrerie—indeed boldness. I t ought of the
hints he, the bearer of it, had thrown out at our
first interview, of how easily such conquest
could be achieved; I thought of the insinuations
of Colonel Espiiiosa, and more, the facts of
which he professed himself to have been wit-
ness. Am this letter seemed to bear out all!
“For my sake—Lorita!” Certainly a strange
expression, considering I had never spoken
words of love, nor even flattery, to her who used
it! And her calling me “ Salvador,” after what
Colonel Espinosa said he had seen between her
and the man from whom I had saved her, was
deception inconceivable! I could almost now
believe, that her kissmg my hand had a motive
different from that to whicliI had attributed
it! Not strange, then, my being pained, more
thaihgratified, by the contents of the singular
e 18 e.

pStill, I might be wronging her. Surely I must
be, and all could be explained. The note was in
a masculine hand; therefore not written by her-
self, for likely enough she could not write.
Done, no doub , by one of those public scribes,
called mmngelistas, of whom there is one in
every Mexican village, and many in the larger
towns and cities. Posdbly Tlall'mac boasted of
such a litterateur, and she had em iloyed him,
dictating the general sense of whats e meant to

9.1», ‘19 Putting in the southan passages,

 

which be supposed would gratify the receiver.
I knew the evangelistas ha such a habit. .

Looking at the letter in this light, I was less
dis sed to find fault with it, and altogether
inc ined to accept the invitation so unex cted-
ly received. Face to face with her w 0 had
sent it, I should, rchance, have an op rtunity
of finding out w ether she was that had first
supposed, and still could not help believing—a
pure, gmleless girl—or the deceiving one cir-
cumstances seemed to declare her.

All this passed through my mind in less than
a minute’s time; and, returningto the messen-
ger, who stood awaitin , and as I could see
narrowly watching me, said:

“ This note tells me you have a boat.”

“ Si, s’nor; (i senn'i-eo de V. Your excellency
may not be aware that I am a pescador.”

‘ Ah! you’re a fisherman?” He looked any-
thing but like it. “Well, can I have your boat
to—morrow mornin .3”

“ Undoubtedly, s’i‘ior; the boat with your

humble servant to row it. Where and at what
hour“ might your excellency wish it to await
mu!
3 I reflected a moment. Mornin parade would
be over by ten o’clock' but to ma 6 sure, I fixed
the time at eleven, and the place by the bridge
over the canal, close to my quarters. Another
reflection suggested the prudence of the in-
quirv:

“How much do you expect to be paid for
taking me to these chinam as? I mean where—”

“ 011! your excellency,’ be interrupted, see-
ing that I was puzzled to name the place, “I
quite comprehend.”

“ How much, then?”

“ Not a claco.”

“Oh! nonsense, my man! You’re not so very
rich, I take it, as to throw away your time in
such profltless fashion.”

“ I’m as poor as was San Lanaro, S’fior Ca.
itan. Still, I can afford to give that little bit
of service gratuitously, to you whose debtor I
am for one much greater, as ’ve already said
to you.”

Once more I made scrutiny of the fellow’s
face; but, for the life of me, could not remem-
her having ever seen him before—nave that once
on the Paseo las Vigas. Much lea could I re-
call the service he seemed so anxious to requite.
Again appealing to him to declare it, as before,
he declined, saying:

“ No matter about that, s’i'ior. I’d rather not
. ieak of it now. To-morrow, when we’re on
t e way to the chinampas, or returning, I prom-
ise to be more communicative.”

“ Be it so. But you must name a sum for the
use of your boat. I can’t think of having it a

whole y without  for it.”

“Not a claco!” h time pronouncing the
words with emphatic firmness. “ You ma
think me over-generous, or over-grateful. Bu ,
your excelletngy does not seem to be aware that
there’s some y else has a say in this matter.
What would La bella think of me, if in taking
to her one she so much wishes to— ’

“Enough!” I said, interrupting; “you’ll be
by t3? canal bridge at eleven. Can I depend on

on.

“Sure as the cathedral clock, S’fior Capitan,
you’ll find me there with my boat. Buenu
noches, Excellenm! Hasta la mafiana,” (till
to-morrow.)

Then raising his hat and givingeit a sweeg
Chesterfield might have envied glided o
and out of sight. '

That night was for me one of surprisu. And
quick ones, another occurrin almost on the in-
stant. Just as the lado ' l{pear-ed, and I
was mentoring the heater, 1:. exican youth,
of the class rice, came rushing toward me, as he
approached crying out:

Oh, senor! come with me! come with mel”

“ Where and for what?”

“ To our box. There’s a man there behaving
—rudely-—insulting in sisters."

“ What sort of man ’

“ Un ofi'ici‘al Americana.” (An American
oflicer.)

“ An American oflcer insulting ladies! You
must be mistaken, muchachito.”

“ No, indeed, senor: ’tis as I tell you. Oh, ca.-
ballero! come, quick l”

I had already started after the youth, and
was followin him along the corridor behind the
boxes in the lief that some drunken soldier
had climbed out of the pit into the box occu ied
by the party. For it seemed incredible at
any of our officers should be acting as de—
scribed.

On reaching the box door, which was open, I
saw it was a private palco, curtained all round.
Inside it were four individuals; two of them
youn ladies, both beautiful I could see, d its
the s adow in which the stood, or ra her
crouched. For they were 0 their seats cower-
ing in a corner of the box, a stout elderly gentle-
man standing guard between them and a young-
or man in uniform, who seemed doing his best
to be nearer them. The house was in an uproar
{ram  ’ lle , 1:zith'scries £1: “ Verguenzal’l

ua w an e on for
“Turn him out!” pm syn ym
To my utonmhment, chagrin, too, I saw that

;

 

the uniform was of our army—undress blue
frock. silver facings, shoulder straps without
bar—a second lieutenant of infantry! But it
did not need these insignia to tell me the offi-
cer’s rank, nor the arm of the service to which
he belonged. A glance in his face enabled me to
identify the man, Lieutenant Sullivan of the 4th
Infantr regiment—a young Irishman, late pro-
moted rom the ranks for a llant deed donein
battle. Brave but bad, a §:unken brute and
bully, whose promotion, instead of reforming,
had but further driven him to drink, with its
kindred excesses. I saw he was intoxicated,
then—so helplessly as to have difiiculty in keep-
ing his feet. No excuse, however, for so misbe-
having himself: nor did I wait for his offering
one. A file of the guard, seeing there was some-
thing amiss, had followed me from the vesti-
bule, and to them I ve the order for his in-
stant arrest—that Without the slightest cere-
mony, notwithstanding his shoulder-stra . As
they  gold of him he strug led an swgerg
fearful . ut to no p . ewasdrag
out and3bfl to the guard-house prison, there to
pass the remainder of the night.

I might have lin red a little lon r in that

rivate box, listening to sweet wor s of ti-

de, but for the necessity of seein Mr.
van bestowed. Yieldingtothis, I wed my-
self out of it, without asking either the name or
address of the gentleman to whom it belonged.
Possibly, but for the billetita I had just stowed
away in my breast pocket, with thoughts of the
morrow, I would not have been so careless about
making his acquaintance.

CHAPTER IX.
mwnnnv on DECEPTION?

In that elevated plain, known as the Valley of
Mexico, lying over seven thousand feet above
the level of the sea, are six large lakes. Hum-
boldt and other travelers speak of only five.
Notwithstanding there are six of them; four in
the northern section of the valley, the largest,
Tezcoco occupying an area of a hundred square
miles. The waters of these northern lakes are
more or less imp: ted with salt—Temoco so
much, that one t ing in it will have his skin
inc with a whitish substance resem ‘
hoar frost; while often wild fowl that aligh
upon it, and remain too long, get their
pmions so glued together as to render them in-
ca bio of flying up again.

round the edges of these saline sheets of wa-
ter all is sterility, as on the shores of the Dead
Sea. Vegetation shrivels, if it does not alto-
gether refuse to show itself, and only those
lphi;an flourish to which a salitrose soil is conge-

Altogether difl'erent the two lakes, Choice and
Xochimilco, which occupy the southern portion
of the valley, these toget er havingasupaflcial
extent almost equaling that of Tencoco. They
might indeed be regarded as one, but for a nar-
row neck of land between—the calzada of Tlnl~

 

huac, along which marched the Madame,
making their first a preach on enochtillan.

This isthmus must ve been even narrower
then; for it is well known that great subsidence
has since taken place in the waters of these
lakes, as also a siltin up. Tezcoco, at the
prefent day, has in no p a depth of over six
ee .

As for Chalco and Xochimilco, neither can
any longer be called a lake, in the proper signi—
fication of the word, both bein ove wn with
a thick sedge, so that throng out 1; air whole
extent a flock of open water is scarce anywhere
to be seen. But, unlike Tezcoco, their water:
aresweet, withnot a trace of saline mixture,
and under a sky ofeternal spring, or summer
it need scarce be said that the vegetation in and
around them is grand] luxuriant.

This is composed 0 many kinds of aquatic
plants, all the different species oxfucxperus and
sciwpus, with bo beam, and bul es, by the
Mexican view. But although neither
of these lakes has an great depth, rarely over
five or six fee the ts so covering them do
not spring up rom he bottom; instead, having
their roots in a stratum which floats on the sur-
face, this consistin of the living roots them~
selves, with the dc 11's of decayed leaves and
stalks intermingled—the whole formingaflbroul
mass which resembles mat-work. ,,

In the language of the countryit is called
cinta ; and, as will present] be seen, has much
to do with the formation 0 the “ floating garb
dens "—about which IIumboldt, with
and others following him, has given an errone-
ous account. Indeed, their mode of construc-
tion is even still a puzzle tothe European meant.
Nor is it much better understood y Mexican.
themselves—that is, those who reside in cities.
So far as I am aware, no traveler, ancient or
modern, has explored that vast wilderness of
swam occupying the south-eastern portion of
the exican_v e , while to dwellers in the
 itself it is out as much a term incog-
n .
The more was I desirous to make exploration
of it; above all to see some of the famed float-
ing gardens, which I had been told existed
there. And now that circumstances had invest
ed them with a new interest, my desire to pay
themavilitwum than ever. 80, I was

ulli- '

...—_.. .

 

 

 

8

hm.  .,

 

 

 

ggntctual to a minute with the fisherman and his
a .

He also proved true to time and romise; for
at the hour a pointed I found him y the canal
bridge, seate in his craft awaiting me.

It struck me that he looked a little surly, on
seeing that I was accompanied. I had asked a

lbrother—ofllcer, Lieutenant Crittenden, of the

'dragoons, to go with me; and he was along.
Whatever the cause of his displeasure, however,
the boatman got over it, on our presenting him
with a packet of (-igm'ritos, which he accepted
witha ‘muchas gracias.” Then lighting one,

be commenced working his ears, and we were E

o .
For the first four or five miles our way was

After entering among the sedges, we gave but
little heed to our boat or boatman, our attention
being taken up with the scenery-forms of vege-
tation so new to us, and strange species of wild
fowl, which, disturbed by our intrusion upon
their solitary domain, gave out cries of alarm
as they rose up in flocks, and flew around us.

This, after a time, becoming monotonous, we
desisted from observing it and bent our eyes
upon the pescudor—to see that he was making
but poor progress, managing his craft rather
clumsily, as one not much accustomed to oars,
or certainly little skilled in the use of them.
Strange that, his calling of fisherman con-
l sidered. But he may not have been long en-

gaged at it, and therefore without much prac—

through a low-lying tract of land, past the l tice as an oarsman. Thus reasoning, we let our

l3eadle’s Dime Library.

 

 

know the individual on the bank. that seemed
strange was, that they should pass one another
without biddin r “Buenas dias,” a discourtesy
uncommon in exieo, even among strangers.
For the two had not saluted, either by word or
gesture! Still, they might be acqu .intances
without being friends.
Why my comrade and I should have any ap-
prehension of danger may call for explanation.
t is easily given. Though our army had con~
quered most part of the country, and several
brigades were quartered in its capital, the Mex-
icans still maintained a form of government in
the city of Queretaro, with a force of troo )s nu-
merically strong; while bands of guc'rzlleros
abounded. Many of these were no better than
robbers, but so much the worse for those of our

 

   
  

0-1.

/

Tl

 

 

j/

   
   
 

  

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U31;
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pueblos of Istacaleo, Mexicalzingo, and Culhua-
can. Be 0nd Tomatlan the canal enters Lake
Xochimi co, through which it runs longitudinal-
ly, toward the lake’s southern end. But before
reaching this, it turns abruptly eastward, and
‘crossing the Calzada of Tlalhuac, through an
Iartiflcial cutting, it continues on through the
sister lake, to the ancient town of Chaleo on its
eastern shore. Other minor waterways inter-
sect the marsh, communicating with various
villages around its edge, as also with one or two
situated upon islands, as Xico and Mezquio.
These branches, called acalotl‘s, are all narrow
lists, kept open by the boat traffic, Which along
manyo
ver, from violent storms, or other causes, por-
‘tions of the quagmire become detached, and

drifting about, close up the canals, or change ,

their courses, so that new routes have to be

1

them is considerable. Sometimes, how- ,

l

A

surprise pass away, without communicating it
to the man.

Going so slowly, however, it was after two
o’clock when we reached Tlalhuac, and entered
the cutting which carries the canal across into
Lake Chalco. We could see there was a village
on the calzada close by, inhabited by Indians,
as could be told by the style and character of
the dwellings. But, while regarding these from
the boat, I observed several men moving about
the place, who appeared to be either whites 01‘
mastizoes, as they were dressed in a fashion

uite unlike the simple garbof the Lake Indian.

oreover, as we passed through the narrow
water gorge, a man standing on thebnnk above,

 

he certainly not an Indian, appeared to ex-5

change. it look of intelligence with our boatman.
Of itself there was nothing in this. A fisher-
man would naturally be acquainted with the

AT WHICH I LIFTED HIM FROM HIS LEGS, AND WITH AN OUTWARD JERK SHOT HIM OVER INTO THE CANAL.

soldiers who had the misfortune to fall into their
hands—as some actually had. A fatal mis-
chance; since they were murdered without
mercy—in many instances mutilated! And this
often close to our camp, or barracks, within gun-
shot of our sentries. One poor fellow of my own
company, taking a solitary stroll outside the
suburbs of the ca um], and not six hundred
yards from where his comrades new in quar—
ters, had been thus assassinated: after death, a
cross cut on his forehead, with tWo others deep
gushed into the soles of his feet.

It will scarce be wondered at then, that we
began to feel misgivings. (Wen regret for having
entered upon the excursion at all.

“’0 had both taken tin; pr. ":tlitilm to put on

1'Mexiean dresses, and as 1 had already liven

3 complimented on my resemblance to the nutiw,

f there need be nothing to fear on my

account.

l people of Tlalhuac, and as natural for him to i Crittenden, however, could lay no claim to such.

 

 

 

similitude. His complexion was a bright rubi-
cund, hishair red as a carrot. _

In truth was there reason for our apprehen-
sions. There were we, in the midst of a very
nrtze of marsh,- a‘moug bulrushes and other
aquatic plants, so tall as far to overtop our
heads—in a boat gliding along narrow water
stretches—rowed bya man having aught but an
amiable countenance—quite a stranger to us, or
what we knew of him anything but in his fa;
vor! Ho could conduct us whithersoever it
might please him—perhaps into some den of
salteadores, to be set upon and slain by them
without the slightest compassion!

But why should he do so? That was the ques-
tion, 'm' contra, which came up to tranquilize
us. arring a little rudeness on our first inter-

9

 

H Captain of the Rifles.

esty; instead, further excited them. The worst
of it was, we could not communicate with one
another, even b signs. For the fellow, as we
sat in the stern, ad his face toward, and all the
time his eyes fixed on us. True, we spoke a
language he ought not to understand: but the
rascal, despite his raggedncss, seemed so full of
accom lishments, I thought it just poSsible he
might have picked that up, or a smattering of
it. in his intercourse with our soldiers. Other
Mexicans had done so, of the same class as he.
By this, we had forsaken the main canal
which crosSes the lake to Chalco, and turned
northward along one of the lesser acalotés. He
said it was the way to the place we were bent
for. Not a direct one, at all events, but crooked
as could well be; curving and zigzagging to

 

 

 

he continued, “ We haven‘t much further to go
now. In another hour or so, we shall reach our
journey’s end.”

“ Another hour 1”

“Si, s’x'ior. Surel 'ou don’t think that much ?”
“So much, it wil lyeave but little time for us
to fiat back to the cit before night.”

“ ut do your exce encies intend returning to«
night?”

“ Of course we do.”

“Carambal I didn’t know that. I supposed
you meant staying over night with the family
on the chinampa.’

“ We meant nothing of the sort; and don‘t
now.”

“ Well, caballeros; it won’t be absolutely im-
possible to get back to the city, this night,

 

 

~\\‘.‘~~
r»

‘3'
I“

 

 

THE INDIAN GIRL HALF STARTED UP AND SAT HANGING OVER THE EDGE OF THE HAMMOCK.

View, Ihad offered him no offense afterward;
while he, on his side, kept telling me he was m
debtor for some service I had done him. Thls
was a mysteryr which still needed clearing up;
and as he had promised me the erlairoz‘ssement
some time during our journey, it now occurred
to me to remind him of his promise. Something
might come of it to allay our apprehensions.

“I would willingly do so, S’uor Capitan,” he
said, in answer to my appeal. “ But,” he con-
tinued. with a look toward Crittenden, “it so
clrmces that the friendly turn, for which I’m
under obligations to your excellency, was of a
sommvhnt private nature, and can only be
spoken of to yourself. Therefore, I trust ou will
not )ress me, tilla fitter opportunity 0 ers.”

0 course I could not insist; though his reti-
cence had the effect of makin my ourioait
keener than ever. Nor had his m: For done
anything to remove our suspicions 0! MI

I .1
(f p I ‘ ,' ‘1 '

a‘:
m

 

71'

eve
by t e sun, at one moment shining in our faces,
the next being behind our backs!

For all of three good hours we were occupied
in this tortuous navigation' which caused me
surprise, as renewed apprehension. For I re-
membered the young Indian having said, their
chinampa was not such a great distance beyond
Tlalhuac. We must have already come three
or four leagues, since leaving this place, and
still no signs of a chinam l

Makin known to our lizatman what the In-
dian hm told me, I received for response, and
in whisper meant only for myself:

“Ah! S’uor Capitan: that muchachito has
been telling,r you a fib. Natural he should; see-
, ing he’d been put up to it by the sister. She
wants you to come; and for that reason repre-
sented the dist'inccless than it is.” Then raising
his voice. and addressing himself to both of us,

 

quarter of the compass. aswe could tell '

 

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though late. And if your excellencies romise

1 not to dally loo long on the floating gar ens. I‘ll

do the best I can for you. But it’s ver fascina—
ting among those flowers; especia in the
company of that charming muchac a. And
once there, El Capitan, if I mistake not, won’t
care to change his quarters much before morn-
ing; the alcalde is very hospitable, and the
Queen is—”

“ Row on, sirrah! Row on Y” I cried out, an-
grily, displeased with allusions, which had
more than once given me disgust; and now an-
gered by the evident deception practiced—by
whom?

“ Oh, certainly,” be rejoined, with a look
more rebellious than obedient, at the same time
pretending to apply himself more industriously
to the oar.

It was now well on in the afternoon, and my
comrade and I began to think we were really in

 

 

10

for a night of it. There was but scant chance
lcf t of our getting back to the city before mom-

ing. Indeed none at all, unless, favored by a
moon, of which there seemed little likelihood.
For the sky was now clouded all over, as it had
been for the past hour or so. Awkward, if we
(lid not report ourselves that same night; since,
for ashort excursion, as we had supposed our-
selves startin upon, neither had obtained leave
of absence at cad-quarters, nor thought of ask-
ing for it. As concerned myself, it did not mat—
ter much. In a sort of way I held an indepen—
dent command, being superior emcer of the de-
tachment stationed at Les Vigas. But Critten-
don had 8. ca tain over him, a ver martinet of
a disciplinanan, who might not so satisfied,
but instead very angry with his subaltern for
such seeming neglect of duty. However, there
was no help for it now, in either case; and so re-
fleeting, we made up our minds to bother no
more about it. Sufficient for that day was the
evil thereof and it might be more.

“ Mira ! lLas chinampas I” called out our
boatman' and looking ahead we at length saw
the famed “ Floating Gardens.”

CHAPTER X.
THE FLOATING GARDENS.

Now that we had as good as reached the goal
of our journey, all doubts of our boatman’s
fidelity passed out of our minds, or for the time
were no more dwelt upon. I’Ve were too much
interested in the novel ctacle which had
come under our eyes to thin of aught else. And
novel it was. The boat had shot into a sheet of
open water, semicircular in shape, and having
a diameter of about a mile. Banged along this
last, in a row nearly regular, were some scores
of little thatched huts, or chozas, at equal dis-
tances apart-evidently dwellings, since there
was smo e rising ovor most of them.

As we drew nearer we could see that each
stood on its own plot of ground, as so many do-
taclie'l laborers’ cottages with gardens in front;
There were gardens there, too, but instead of
being contiguous, with a brick wall or timber
paling betwee they were separated b
water drains a t the width of a can .
Alongside each lay a large, fiat-bottomed boat,
of the nut ttern; and by most a smaller
craft, e her s 13 or canoe; while their owners
were observed standi beside the boots or mov-
ing about among the ower-plots, some in the
ac of cultivating them. Bythe' doors of the
huts sat or‘stood dark-skinned, black-haired wo-
men of all ages most of them wearing onl a
petticoat, girt loosely over their loins, an a
sleeveless chemise but scantily cove their
breasts, while around them tplayed chil n of
both sexes, almost in a sta of nudity, their
smooth brown skins giving them the a cc
of little images of bronze, fresh from e cast-
in mold.

boatmsn had already admonished us that
the chinampa of Don Tito was at the further end
of the row, and we should have to pass all the
others to reach it. 80 had we; and as we were
rowed along their front I saw sufficient to con-
firm the account I had received of these curious
gardens, nd that they were afloat, surel
enough. on the slight waves from our sk
caused a perceptible undulation throu bout the
whole line, wh le those nearest rose an fell, as
rafts or boats disturbed by a passing
steamer.

On seeian host, their owners—men, wo-
men and c ' dren—ran out to their gardens’
extreme ends, and stood g at us in aston-
ishment, as th h it were a sight rather
strange to them. I,on my side, fancied that
among their faces was more than one I had
seen before—which was likely enough, since

 

nesrlizll of them were market- ers, a

must ve often b Les 1 on their

watothellfercsdade nDo .They
nothing, however; nor did we offer-to enter

into conversation with them, but kept on to the
further exttmi of this Transatlantic Venice,
where dwalt its oge. 0n nearing it we per-
ceived a chinampa, ofciarger size than any of
the others, with a cabin of somewhat more pre-
tentious appearance—clearly the residence of
th alaaldo.

e

“ That’s the one you’rebound for, caballeros,”
said the boatman, pointing to it over his shoul-
der. “ I’ll set you out upon it; and then I must
ask the indulgence of your exce encies to spare
me for a little while. I’ve an 01 acquaintance
near the other end with whom I wish to have a
bit of  You won’t need me on the chi-
nainpa; an ,” he added, with a leer, “no doubt
El Capitan would prefer being without me.”

“ My good follow.” I said, more than ever an-
noyed at his ' ,nt speeches, “ you can go
where you please.” I had almost added, that
his company was not so very agreeable, but the
th ht that we were dependent on him and his
bog‘fior taking us back hindered me from com-
ing to a rupture'with him. Besides, we were
now approaching the p’lill'w where dwelt the
Queen of the Lakes, and that kept my spleen
under restraint. _

“ Gradual l” he grinned out: “I shall svsil
myself of your excellencv’s kind permission.”

“Be sure you get back in—in—say an hour.

We can’t possibly stay longer.”

Beadle’s Dime Library.

your excellency so orders it.”

“ Oh! you can take an hour.”

We had now arrived at the chinampa, and the
boat being brought up alongside we ate ped out
11 n the unstable ground, which sensib y trem-
b ed beneath our feet.

Soon as out of his craft, the pescador, taking
'off his hat, and saluting us with a “Husfa
lueqo !” (till presently), rowed himself off a ain.

ather glad to be rid of him, if only or a
short while, we did not look after or take note
of the we. be Went. Our eyes were turned in
the o to direction, makin survey of the
sin ar spot on which We h set foot. Only
the u per art of the cabin Was visible, some
tall owermg plants and shrubs screening it
below. No one was seen around it, nor heard
we human voice. Somethin we at first took
for this turned out to be but t e talk of a speck-
ing parrot, which, with other exclamations, at
intervals called out: “Lora—Lora—Lorita!"—
its own name in truth. We thought the silence
strange, as also no one appearing to greet us.
But our boatman had made very little noise
with his cars; besides he spoke in a low tone at
taking leave, and they might be inside the but
without having heard us. Or, was the whole
famil abroad on a visit to some other chinam-
pa? ' could hardly be. We had passed all
the others, and if on any'of them they would
sure] have seen, and hastened home to receive
us. ore likely they were inside the cabin.

Fromwhere we had landed a th led of! be-
tween the flOWer.plots. and wit out reflecting
further we struck alon it. All was fra ance
around; flowers in f bloom, though it was
December! As we drew near, the parrot once
more called, “‘ Lora—Lorita—ita—ita!” when a
small hairless dog came out of the door, and see-
ing us ran in again, angrily growling. Once
more the caged creature called the familiar
name, but louder and more excitedly, following
it up with a series of clucks. But new sounds
of sweeter tone became mingled with the harsh
notes of the beast and bird—a soft feminine
voice saying:

“ t’s frighted you, guacamaya miu ?
And on, rm; why do you growl so? It
must fa er and brother got home; I thought
I heard oars. Yes; there the are!”

By this my comrade and I ad come close up
to he door, which stood open; and looking
through some vines trellised in front we saw the
interior of the cabin. An interesting spectacle
it presented, in keephg with the scene around.
A young Indian ’1' was reclining in a hamaoa
which was stretc ed between two of the u
rights that supported the roof. More correct
say 111le n ; for on b our foot-
steps she half-started up, and now sat with
one limb, nude to the knee, hanging over the

of the hammock. In another instant, see-
ing us, she sprung out of it, and came forth, her
looks showing surprise, and some little alarm.
It quite disconcerted me, expecting a very dif-
ferent sort of reception. But I had forgotten
my disguise, and MI might not be rec
Neither was I on the instant, nor until spoke,

so u :

{isgnoritm I hope you’ll not deem us intruders
in thus to visit you without first having
“atghm lgsh ed in

cabana-o e exclaim , terrupting.
“Is it indeed you!”

The change which came over her countenance
was a 30%; eloquent Jegcome h tfictild be
convey any wor ' or thong ere was
still a trace of wonder in her the
seemed to have away. , the ex-
pression did not satisfy, but rather uzsled me
—so unlike that of one who had indi such an
invitation. In warmth the welcome did not
wrapped with, the contents of the billeflfu.
Still, erewss sthird partypresent, whom

' m .0 h”. ’ .1.

00% f with this, I was .tbéut glo-
ceeding to u apologies, when the rstt g
of cars in their rowiooks struck upon our ears.
At which the rl exclaimed, starting forward:

“That must father and brother now! Oh,
sefiorsi I’m so glad they’re home. so how
could I have entertained you?”

ce.

p While she was gone my reflections were by
nomeansofap tnsture norm comre-
hension of things clear. Glad that he fa er
and brother had got home! Strange that.
seemed to me, remembering what she had writ-

ten.

As it turned out, only one of the two had ur-
rived; the brother having remained behind at
Chalco, where theth been on some business.

Introduction to e father followed; the easier
as h knew all about what had hap nod in the
cans. at Les Vigss—for which he, was pro-

fuse in expressions of gratitude. en suc-
ceeded our explanation as to why we were

there, with the apologies interrupted by his,

cumin .

Theindian, still only a middle-a ed man, had
all the air and hearing which migh belong to a
cacique; and soon as the first moments of em-
barrsument were over. courteoust invited us
i to partake of such fare as his humble home sf-

 

And. she glided pastas, on to the landing--

 

 

“An hour will be enough for me; or less, if I forded. An invitation neither‘of us was loth

to accept, for by this we were both hungry as
hyenas.

It ended in a table being spread inside the
cabin, with viands of various kinds ilaced upon
it. These came from a stdl smaller but do.
tached—a sort of kitchen—whole nn oldish In<
dian woman filled the office of ('ufl'nfl‘az,_ ,

While we Were en aged on the bomestibles set
before us—neurly e.le she’s of the ancient Aztec
cuisine—the conVersation turned to that which
was the professed object of our visit—the chin-

am 88.

‘PHow are they constructed?" I asked of Don
Tito, who sat by us at the table, though not eat-
ing. The girl had gone outside.

‘ That’s easy enough,” he answered; “noth—
ing easier, caballero. It’s only to saw them out
of the cinta. W'hen any one wants a chinampa
he begins by hewin a ditch all around it, as
you see with this 0 mine. Then floating the
0050 pieces out of the way, he gets at the bot-
tom, where there’s always lenty of mud. That
drawn up, and laid thic over the wing
rushes and other plants soon kills them. When
the mud gets dry, it on y needs breakin up to
make the very best of seed-beds; and wi I grow
anything—vegetables, fruits, or flowers.”

‘But do {fem not first lay a foundation of
sticks, or tim r?”

I was thinking of the account of their con—

struction 'ven b certain historians and
travelers, he trut of which I had long
doubted.

“No, indeed,” answered the Indian, with a
stare of surprise. “Any one who did that
would have more labor than roflt, timber being
so scarce round our lake. esides, it wouldn’t
serve for such a palms. A chinampa resting
upon a raft of that ' (1 would soon go to the
bottom, with everything on it.”

“ Why does yours keep afloat, then!”

“ Because it’s not set upon sticks, but on what
makes the cints. itself.”

“ What is that!”

“.The roots of the plants growin on it, wit
their stalks and leaves when dea . They ar
all twmed and warped together, sometimes
three feet in thickness or even more. I can
show you some slices cut strni ht down, that
are nearer four feet wide. 0 use them as
screens to protect the young plants from the
su when it’s too hot and sometimes from the
h ‘ stones when it hails. The thing’s as light as
cork' that’s why it will carry so much weight.
Besi es, it never rots—as would a raft of
sticks.”

“ But why are your chinsmpes made so small,
and drains cut around them! Would it not do
as well if they were made larger, and on the
cinta itself 7”

“That would not do at all, senor. Where
would the soil come from to make them with?
And where the water for our plants, during the
many months when we have no rain! We can
always irrigate them from the sides, and get
more mud from ti’om. That is needed to
kee them in as also to manure them-
an if they were laid out very large, it would
 swarm.  u. ....

p use 0 on g ens ” was
now for the time clear to my comprehen-
sion—tint problem which has so long rploxed
the moans—even to this day unmlvedpzy them
though three centuries and a half have ela
since Cortes and his companions first be old
them with wondering eyes, as they advanced to
the conquest of Tenochtitlan!

CHAPTER xx.

nnmrnn.

mvmo, throughout all myslife, a fondness
for inqui ' into curious hob and customs I
had with interesti‘o the Indisn’s rela-
tion. Still not so much as under different cir-
cumstances, I might have done. A feeling of
impatience _not so uneasiness, had crept
on?“ which also ected my brother officer,
\as, could see by the we be was shifting about
mine seat. Our uneas ness was greater after
the expiration of the hour in which our best-
man had romised to be back, and there was no
sign of im. And when another half-hour
elapsed without his showin himself, the a pre-
hensions we had alread fe t returned in uller
force. What if he di not come at all? He
might be drinking with his old crony, and have
forgotten all about his engagement. And how
were we to get back to the citvl True, we
might borrow a boat from our host, and find
some one to row it' than h for the rowing, we
could do that ourselves. oney would make all
right so far as the boat. And in the end the con-
sequences could not be so serious: only alittle
later in reaching our respective quarters.

We might have reasoned thus, but did not.
At least, not when we saw the sun nearly down,
without seein aught of the truant boatman.
And now, wit \ ar rehensions excited to their
utmost, my comm: e and I recalled the various
incidents of the day.w|'ich had led us to suspect
his fidelity, with some others besides, known
but to myself. We had long ere this finished
our repeat, and gone forth again among the
flmv-nrs. I wanm to have a few words in pri-
vote with the girl, but I could not find the op-

 

 

 

Captain of the Rifles.

11

 

portunity, for all the while her father he t
with us. t to me was strange enough e
did not seem to seek it, 0 at all events m e no
sign! Thiigdng‘ of what ad passed I could not
comprehen her seeming indifference. Cha-
grined, almost irritated by it, I thought of has-
tening away from her presence; when at length
I found myself alone with her, Crittenden and
the alcalde having gone oi! behind the choza. I
fancied that a change came over her features as
her father passed out of sight. Turning to me,
8he‘ $id: pear be t1 1 ested in

‘ on a to grea y nter our
chinampag Why is that?”

“ Because they are very curious.”

“ But have you never seen any before? I think
you said you had not. ”

“ I never have.”

“And on have been in many other countries
besides exico, have on not?

“Yes many; but exico is the only country
in whic there are chinam as.” '

“Indeed! I thought they were everywhere.”

“ Oh no: only here. Some are spoken of else-
“fibere, but they are not real floating gardens as

886 7

“Ah, then, that’s why on were so curious to
see them. I can now nn erstand.”

“ Not altogether; there was another reason for
mg havmg a desire to visit them.”

he bent her eyes on me inquiringly, as I
thought and hoped, with some eagerness, ask-
ll 3

5‘ What was that, senor?”-

The question caused me to hesitate. I dare
not give the direct answer, which would have
been to say, herself. Our acquaintance was not
old enough for that.

“Well, for one thing, sefiorita,” comin to it
in a roundabout way, I was desirous of ow-
ing whether t6you ad sustained any inj
from that we ing in the canal, caught a cold, or
Something of the sort. ”

She laughed, like the brother had done when I
spoke of sending a man for his boat.

“No, no. Not much fear of my catching a
cold. Only the city people have that; never W9
here.” ,

“ And the fright did on no harm?”

“her that, senor. mig'ht but for you. I
knew ou must still be near, that’s why I
shou so. Then I saw on come gallopin
down the Pasco, and wasn’ an longer afraid.

“Y’ou’ve never seen the rugan since, I sup-

“ How could I, sefiori Since then we‘ve neVer
been to the city, either myself or brother.
feared—that is we thought—" the red came to
her cheeks as she chan the words—“We
might never see you ag . It is very kind of
you to come here."

The air of perfect innocence with which all
this was said quite delighted me. It corres-
ponded with the naivete of the note which I had
mistaken for unbecomi boldness. And her
speech recalling this, I re oined:

“ Far kinder of you to wish me come; and I
ought to have soom-r thanked you for the invi-
 h face' 1. i

ere essougtmy msurpriseasse n-
terrogagvely echoed the word:

“Invitation?”

“Yes; that letter on wrote me yesterday.
At least I received t yesterday; and, as you
see, have, answered it in person—soon as it was

6.
Her eeyes opened wider in their wonder as she
om .

‘tIessn'd you a letter, senor! Alas! I cannot

“ And do you know nothi of this?”
I had brought the note wit me, and drawing
it out held it before her face. .
“ . ! neither can I read. What is it! What
dole: it say, seller?”
was my turn to be rised, and something
more.“ There was no migrating her candor, thus
guestioning. Neither she, nor an evangelists
pr her;1 hfad written that 16153;; at some one
e so, an or a v erent to that I
had supposed. ltpigi ited. aggro Was I now, that
my life, as my comrade’s was in dan r.
‘ No matter, seflori "I said return-
ing the letter to my at and making an at-
tempt to laugh. “ only a little joke that a friend’s
been playing upon me. However, I shall
him back for, it yet. But,” I added, with a 
at the settin sun, " it’s time we were start-
ing on our refium and if our boatman fail I
must ask your father to lend us some sort bf
craft—”
“ 0h! he will do that willingy
interru ting. “ He has a sh - at my brother
.——I wis he were here to go with you.’
Just then ,Crittenden and the alcalde joined
up, and I asked the latter whether a was pos-
Bible for, some one to be sent after our delaying

boatman. ,
To which he mlde answer, by hailin a young

fellow who was an in b canoe,
and ordering him {ddcomgegum order prompt-

ly obeyed. .
“Pepe!” he lled to the canoeman, “go
along the line 0 chinampas, and find the boat-

to

” she cried out,

man who brought these gentlemen hcre. By 1
the way, sefiores. what’s his name! If I knew ’

 

,I’ might be able to tell who he’s gossiping
wit

His name! Here was a poser. Neither I nor
my comrade knew it, not caring and never hav-
in thought of asking for it from the man him-

se .

“Indeed, Senor Alcalde,” I said, “we can’t
tell you; he is a stranger to us.”

Long ere this I would have made inquiries
about our boatman’s cognomen with other par-
ticulars respecting him, from ISon Tito himself.
But believing him to be, as he had represented,
a friend of the family, I forbore, not wishin to
let them know that we had doubts of his fl el-

ty.

“ No matter,” returned the Indian: “ go on,
Pepe. Find him soon as you can. Say the gen-
tlemen are waiting for their boat.”

At which Pe paddled off, sending his craft
like an arrow t rough the \\ .ter.

Soon as he was gone, thinking reticence no
longer desirable, I turned to our host, say-

m :

a Seller Alcalde although we don’t know our
boatman’s name, I fancy I can give on a de-
scri tion by which on ma identify 'm, see-
ing hat he s an old riend o yours.”

‘ An old friend of mine?”

“80 he re resents himself.”

“ Un Ind of” ‘

“ No; he’s a mestizo, and follows the calling of
pescador.”

“A pescadori Strange, that is. I know of
none excgpting among my own peo le. Nor
can lthi of an mestiso who shoul be call-
in himself my It must be a mis-
ta e.

While he was speaki I had kept my e es
fixed on the girl’s face 'ngut no sign there, that
the manwe were spec of. Was nOWn to her.
If he Eves, than  she :11 misttzeis of daece

on; or on or erappe ng er s e e—
nied all knowledge of any such acquaintance,
fisherman or otherwise.

All this only made my comrade and self more
apprehensive. Indeed, we were how good as
sure we had been tricked, and that there Was
trouble in store for us. I

“ A trap, by the Eternal!" exclaimed Critten-
den, on bean? what I had to tell him. “Yes,
oid fellow; an We’re in it, sure.”

Still surer it seemed when the canoeman coins
ing back, which he did the instant after, cried
ou :

riend.

“ There’s no stranger on an of the chinam-
pas Senor Don Tito. I’ve inqu at every one
of them.”

For a second or two the alcalde st00d silent,
apparently reflecting, then called out:

Go back, Pepe! Try1 along the ~ canal for
Tlalhuac; you may find im there.” .

The canoeman, a lithe active fellow, shot his
craft off again, and was soon out of si ht. For
by this the sun was down,and the pu e of twi-
light had overspread the water. Don to, tum-
mg‘ ifs-“3' 00%: n h I

mga or,as ousa seorese
may beem loying his timeyto catc ’ fish. There
are some 0 large size in the (ice water, just be-
yond where the acaloté enters t a lake. ’

The conjecture was without probability; so
we said to our host. And now that thi were
looking queer, we took him further i con-
fidence, telling him all we knew of the boatman,
and how we had come to eng him. Nothing,
however, about the letter of invitation. Spu-
rious though that was it would expose certain
matters I preferred keepinafltg myself.

Still the alcalde did not k we were in any
da r. There were no guerilieros in that
us borhood; at least so far as he had heard.
An if the ador had played us a trick, it
mi ht beo ytogratifysomespiteof hisown,
or or other reason unexplained.

“In the end ” he said, winding up with words
more comfo ng, “it won't matter so much
seiiores. I can give you a boat, or Pepe will
take on in his canoe. I 0in wish my son was.
here, hat I could send him a on with you.”

We were in the act, of than ng him for his
offer, when the canoeman was a in seen mak-
ing approach, paddling his craf asif in a re-
gs tat' Soon as within hailing' distan' so he call-

ou : '

“Senor Alcalde! Sefior Alcaldei”

“What is it, Pepe?”

“ There are men coming along the acaloté.
Three b boatfuls of them ”

“ Wha sort of men?”

“I couldn’t well see your worship; on! that
they’re strangers, and not of our poop but
blames. They’re soldiers I think, for they ve
arms—guns an rs!”

Lon before the tightened Pepe had reached
the en of his refpo , my e and I could
have finished it or him and with better com-
prehension than he. We were at length con-
vinced that the boatman had betrayed us, and
that the men in the boats were the same we had
seen around the houses at Tlalhuac.
Guen'l ms hey might be, but more likely a
band of real robbers, who designed making a.
coup by capturing us, and demandin a ransom.
For the risvattu. is as much a was ice among
the banditti of Mexico, as their rethren of Na-
ples and the Abruaai.

“ I told you we were in for it,” muttered Crit—
tenden, looking anxious, but resolute. He was
not the man to feel fear. “A devil of afix it
* loolgs, too! Hew’re we to get out of it, old fel-

ow. .

“ Heaven only knows; the best way we can.
Have you your revolver ready 1”

“ I have; and it’s good for 81! of them. ”

“Mine the same. If there’s not too many,
and we get anything like a fair chance, we may
save ourselves yet. These Mexicans don’t know
what six-shooters are. In any case let us sell
“it? twist” bet

'etis e i ewaspassing ween
my comrade and myfil‘, Don Tito, who had
stepped out to the water‘s edge was holding a
like hurried conversation wit the canoeman,
also in undertone. But for a strong belief that
i had secured his friendship, alo with grati-
tude fo . .service I had rendere him, I mi ht
have fancied .t he, were in conSp -
cy against us. To have suspected him, howev-
er. would have been a grievous wrong, as was
proved by his .iter behavior. Partin mm the
canoeman, and hastening back to us, e said:

“Caballeros! after all I fear you may be in
some dang. Who theSc armed men are I can
not tell. e’Ve never Seen such at our chinam-
gs before, and I think they must be coming at

r on .’

“{Ve think so too; are sure of it.”

“ Ah! you know something about them, then?”

“ We have suspicions”
“ And you don't wish to meet them i"
“ Certainl not—an ' but tha ”

“ _Well; t ere‘s a way by which you may
field it.” ,

“ There is a way?”

“ Si, sei‘iores; and time one , yet. Pepe is
a skillful paddler, and by good uck has got here
a good way ahead of them as he tells me. You
must go into his canoe, and he’ll take on along
an acaloté, where there’s little fear o their to -
lowing u. But there’s no time for sayingemore.
These ts, whoever they , an, must now
ni h. Into the canoe, m eros!”

‘But yOurself and— our daughter!”
. I lanced at the gir » all the while standing
bgv; be c" Mon upon er features less of fear
an anxi

t m. - speecAnlli “ii thtookis "n were“?
W OXC I S e . er 8.-
ther ,ur ng us to instant flight?

“ bh, seller!” she said to me in a half-whisper,
and beseechingly. “ There maybe danger. 00:

do 0!

“fiiave no care for us,” was the alcalde’s an-
swer tomy question. “Whoever the strangeis
be, we have no cause of quarrel with them, and
they’re not likely to have any with us poor chi-
nam ros. Even if robbers, as you appear to
thin , there’s nothing here to tempt them”

He seemed unconscious of the $1100“ trea-
sure he had standing by his side. t not I, and

I said:
‘ may be rude, for all that.”

“ No r caballero," he rejoined, compre-
hending; “if they attempt to land on our chi-
nam and I see sign of bad behavior, they
won t (1 us at home. We have a boat behin ,
and there are ways through the cinta, known

only to Los Indies de las lacunae. But now—
now—«you must, be gonel”
And be commenced toward the canoe.

dhng ofi

Alive from the side of thechinampa,
alast ven me by thegirlseemedtosny
that ough 0 had not sent me that letter of

invitation, I was as welcome as if she had.

CHAPTER XII.
m swan-Bronx .

 

IT was now itch dark; for besides being
night, the  become heavily overcast,
porten ' oae‘of those, fluorine storms com-
mon on , table- d; Thunder was
rumblitnfinatad 09, and an occasional flush
of ligh lit up the flrmament, while duo
of rain, lb as pistol-bullets began to slrilf

down upon the water's surface still smooth.
That it wouldnot be long so coiild be redici/ 'I‘
by the rushing noise heard np'amon i n mum—

tams, where a strong wind was its way
through their passes. '

On parting from the  s, I observer
thatour canoeman had turned , crait in a di
rection the reverse to b which we had ap-

proached them, and wash, ing for the. opp
site end of the o a sheet. _ turn but a C(mph-
of hun yargofi', and caretching it he slzu.
thecanoe toanotheracalo . ', ,

Fifty yards further on, this as rated int...
two branches, and I noticed that 0 took ii.»-
right one, though «the narrower. My' seat. u as
in thtei and ashtthe log , aflkeelmi
roun , ncaug a g ceqof. eating
gardens, With ts here and there g‘llmm' erin;
along their line. 'ke a row of . t-lani I Tiw
one nearest was burning do the c :0 We
had lately left—like enough reflected on that
beautiful face still seeming befo me. Just
then a find blaze of 1i tn ‘ e every1 hing
clear as day ht, an I d distinguish the
med-thatched uts amid their embowcring of

shrubs and flowers. But my e es rested not an

 

them, for the same flash show

me three boats,

 

12

 

Beaéle’s 91,199-,9”???

 

 

each with several men in it, out on the open wa—
ter, and to all appearance making direct for the
t from which we had just parted! Instantly

IWas dark as before, with silence around us,
save the measured plunging of the paddle; its
double blade dealing strokes alternately on each
side as though it were a 'r of oars.

From the rate of speedpzt which our craft was
now progressmg, we need have no further fear
of pursuit by those in the boats—whoever the
might be, or however hostile. Nor thought
more about them so far as we ourselves were
concerned. But I had apprehensions, neverthe-
less, for those we had left behind, which I could
not shake off. Despite the confldent assurances
of the Indian father, I did not share his confi-
dence; instead, believed that, if not himself, his
daughter was in danger. It was vain reflecting
on i , since we could do nothing to avert it, an
dismissing it from my mind, as much as possi-
ble, I turned to what more nearly concerned
ourselves. Naturally, the first thought was,
whither we were bein taken. Up to this mo-
ment not a word had 11 said about that.

“ Where are you paddling for, Senor Pepe?”
I asked of the young Indian.

Don Tito had made us a uainted with his
name, and I knew that the tit e reflxed would
have an effect u n him favorab e to ourselves,
The Mexican In inn is always flattered at being
addressed as “ Senor.”

“ To San Isidro. your excellency. The alcalde

me to take you there.”

“ And how far is it to San Isidro?”

“ Oh, it very short distance ' less than three
leagues. If it don’t get too dark, we should do
it in the matter of an hour and a half, or two
hours at most. There’s a shorter way we could
have gone--by the main acaloté. But his Wor-
ship told me to take this in fear those people in
the boats in ht come after us. But he needn’t
have troubl his head about that. I could ve
them a mile in every two, and then ey
wouldn’t see the waves my canon made in
the water. Oaramba, no!”

“ But what when we get to this San Isidro?
If I remember right, it es near the Vera Cruz

' a good flfteen miles from the city.”

It was Crittenden who now interrogated,
thinking of a reprimand from his superior oili-
cer, the martinet.

“ So it doesx cahallero,” assentingl answered
the Indian. ‘ San Isidro is just fifteen miles
from the puma.”

“ And how after that are we to get to the
city!” eagerly questioned the lieutenant of dra-
goons. Must we walk it!”

“ Not unless your exeellencies would prefer
that way”

“ or walking! My good follow, we are
cavalrymen, and not used to that sort of thin .
Fifteen miles along a hard road—as I know t e
Vera Crua causeway to be—would blister our
feet so bad that to-morrow we couldn’t let them
in the stirrup.”

“ But, caballero,” protested the eanoeman,
“ there will be no need for you to walk.”

h“i;’ou think horses can be had at San Isidro,
t on

“ I’m sure of it, s’nor. Don Tito has a friend
there who’ll rovide them. I have his worship’g
instructions see that he does.”

“ How very thoughtful of Don Tito,” said
Crittenden, now addreaing himself to me, in a
tongue the other was not ikely to understand:
then adding: “He’s a true gentleman, despite
his copper-colored skin. As for the daugh r
if hers wasn’t a shade too dark for my taste, I
shouldn’t mind making love to her myself, in an
honorable wa .”

“ Indeed! don’t think you would succeed in
an other, if you tried; and you mightn’t even
in hat way.” ,

There was the suspicion of a sneer in my re-
joinder, all of which he could not have heard—

haps as well he did not—for, drowning my
list words came a clap of thunder that seemed
to strike the quagmire by our side, causing it
visibly to vibrate. It appeared also to open a
for the wind, which now rushing down
rom he sierras began to make, havoc among
the jointed reeds, snapping them short off, while
the tougher bulrushes waved about with a
swishing as of ten thousand whips. Still these
were but the flrst the avant couriers of
the tem which n after broke over us, in
full battalions of ever? arm—rain, wind, thun-
der and lightning, one see determmed to
outdo the others n the fa of to rage.
the angry blast the tail was tossed
fro like foam on the ocean’s waves, the waves
themselves being represented by the swell of
the cinta, which roseaud fell in grand but -
us undulations.

“Can yougoonthroughthisf’lcalledoutto
thhalls. man than his ords, I

y y use, more w
felt certain he d not.

“ Wateillll, s’flor; I could if the wind would on]

a hit, and there was a little more ligh
Now, as you see, it’s so dark an owl couldn’t tell
land from water. In this crooked acaloté it’s
but gropin’g at best; and I only wish we’d taken
015 r

the he .
“ But what diflerence could that have made!”

Under
to and

“A great deal; the other’s both straighter ,,

 

 

and wider. Besides, I’m better acquainted with
it. Not many go this way; and for myself, I’ve
onl been along it two or three times. ' I
cou d easily make it out if it wasn’t for the
pitchy darkness. Maldita sea I”

“I suppose, then, you can’t proceed further
while the wind lasts ’

He had ceased stroke, and let his craft go bob-
bin about on the water. '

“ e wind I wouldn’t so much mind, if there
was li ht, which as you see, s’fior, there isn’t.
If I a mpt to keep on just now I might at
astra —for this acaloté has no end of branc es
runmng out right and left. After taking the
wron one then—”

“ hat then!”

“ There would be danger.”

“Danger! How?”

“Ah! s’nor you don’t know the cinta. If
you’d been a your life in it as I, on would.”

Crittenden laughed, I myself disposed to do
the same. Danger in a swamp infested with
alligators or crocodiles we could understand.
But there are none of these great reptiles in the
valle of Mexico, as we well knew. Of what
coul the man be speaking!

I put the question to him, but cannot tell who-
ther he heard it, or made reply. For the wild
conflict of the elements, just then coming to
its climax, drowned all sounds save their own.

And now the heavens eyerhead were at one
moment a sheet of bluish yellow, in the next,
pitch black, traversed by forked lightning that
shot hither and thither athwart the flrmament,
like javelins flung red-hot from a furnace. The
rain, too, came ashing) down as from spouts.
Of itself it we d have i
our continuous bailing.
hood of its careening over as the blast struck it
abeam; and to be spilled out there would be
danger indeed. Though in water not much
wider than an ordinary drain, with what a
peared a bank and land on each side, we knew t
was but the treacherous quagmire, which would
scarce carry a cat. There was no firm footing
nearer than that we had left behind—now miles
behind. 80 the Indian told us, with a sang
{raid that would have been incomfirehensible,

ad we not known the cause. e, a very
beaver, could easily swim back to the chinam-
pas—a feat to my brother officer and myself
simply im ble.

Danger ndeed, as we were both now too well
aware, no lonwr making light of the canoe-
man’s team. 0 had enough occupation with
our own then, and for nearly an hour after, all
tad while in dread of the canoe being cap-
s .

But it safely rode out the storm, which at
length showed si of abating; indeed,
almost as sudde y asit had risen. The wind
went down, the rain stopped fallin , the dark
clouds forsook the flrmament, show a clear
moon, whose light shimmered on the w to cone

1 ed the canoe but for
ere was more likeli-

of P0 tepec, which like an immense sugar-
ignr, outlined agai’ net the blue background
0 s y

 

CHAPTER XIII.
“ nos sannoumos!”

“THANK Heaven! we’ve escaped that little
bit of a bother—d r, too, from what on
tell me. But who’d ve thought of sue a
thing? Ono’s life risked by shipwreck in a
swamp—a ditch of water not six yards wide!
Ha! ha! ha!”

It was Crittenden who spoke and lau bed; nor
could I hel joining him in the laugh, e whole
thin seem ng so ludicrous—4n retrospect. For
our oubles were now over, with all perils—as
we sug‘mposed—and it only remained to proceed
on to Isidro, and thence to the city. True,
it would be broad dayll ht, and possibly two
hours after, ere we sho d reach our destina-
tion. But, what of that! My comrade had al-
ready resigned himself to the awkwardness of
being absent without leave. The delightful sen-
sation of having escaped real danger made all
else serene; hence our mirthful mood.

It did not last for ion . While we were yet
in the act of congratulat ourselves, I noticed
that our canoeman’s features still were a trou-
bled look. As the moon was shinin full u n
his face of bronze I easily observed s. He ad
again got his craft in motion, and was lying
his two-bladed oar; but neither 0 y, nor
with his accustomed rapiditfi 0 stroke. In-
stead, his arms moved laugui y, now and then
holdin the paddle suspended; while his eyes
seem alternately to in to the water
ahead and the sod on each si e of it?

“Whatisit,Pe tori-shed “Notanynsw
danger, I hope.”

“ hope so, too, s’iior. But I have my fears. ”

“ gears of what? Surely the storm is over
now

"The storm, yes. But not what may come
after.”

“ You don’t mean the men in the boats!”

“ Oh no! s’nor. There’s not much fear of our
havin been followed by them. They’d have
enoug on their hands to look after themselves.
Bad as they might be, what I’m thinking of
w??? 3°“ " thinking 11”

n w a are you c
Molerosl”.- ‘

“,Los ba

 

“Robbers! Why that’s just what we‘ were
supposin them in the boats to be!”

‘Ah! t isn’t that sort I mean. The bando-
leros I’m speaking of are not the gentlemen of
the road, called snlteadores. Far more dan er-
one than them, for the salteadores, when t 19y
capture a r fellow, will let them go‘again;
that is if t ey find he hasn’t anythin on him
worth taking. And a rich one they 1 let oil‘,
too. most times, after stripping him. But the
bandoleros of the Lakes, they that waylay us
Indians who traverse the acalotés—from them
escape isn‘t so easy. Ah! im ible if one be
beset on both sides by them. hen it’s certain
death. And a horrible death, too: for it don‘t
come at once but after days of sufl’ering, by
inches! Ay bins! it must be torture to any one
who has the ill-luck to find a bandolero both be-
fore and behind. I knew one who did—a pesca-
dor, belonging to our peo 1e. He was found in
his riaguaa com lete eleton. For the 2011:"-
lot .9 had. icked a the flesh oi! his bones, and
very like y had begun that before the breath
was out of his body. 0h, Virgen Santissima/
forbid that we should have such a fate!”

My comrade and I could join in the petition,
without comprehending how this horrible fate
prayed against was brought about. I had just
a g immer of what the man meant, and was
about to demand fuller explanation, when, all
at once, be bent himself more earnestly to his
paddle, saying: ~

“If there’s a bandolero ahead, the sooner we
knew it the better, lest there be another behind.
After such a huracana something’s sure to have
gone adrift.”

Seeing him so actively engaged, with his at—
tention fully occupied, we forbore for the time
further questionin him, and the canoe lidetl
swiftly onward. ut soon be common slow-
ing again, as he did so, the anxious expression
gpoeg his features becoming deeper and more

x .

“ Madre de Bias 1” he next exclaimed. “ The
acalote grows narrower and narrower. Mira,
caballeros I”

. It did not need his pointing this out to us. We
had alread been regarding the list of water

shinin un er the moon like a silver ribbon, am

noti that ahead it appeared to be of less
width, and further on narrowing to a point!

We were in hopes it might be an ocular de-
ception, Caused by our viewing it from a. dis-
tance. But no. A few more strokes of the
paddle brought us near enough to see that the'
o n water ended in an acute angle and soon
:1 gerithe sedge brushed our beam—ends on both

es

0

The canoe was pressed up between the yield-
ing banks till it stuck fast. Then the Indian,
standin erect in it, and looking over the tops
the reedgs, after an instant cried out:

“ Carrot! Just as I feared. A bandolero it
is, and the acaloté closed up!”

We understood him now, too well. The
storm had torn oi! a rtion of the floatin v
quagmire, which, driftm across the list 0
open water, had brought l s o posits edges to-

ther, uniting them as thong they had never

u apart.

Had Crittenden and I been by ourselves, we
might have stayed longer there, to look further
to see if there were no crack or crann throu h
which the canoe could be squeezed. at so 6
who had ch of it. Better acquainted with
the nature of t 9 change that had taken place,
almost on the instant of pronouncin the ara-
loté closed, he set the blade of his pad le against
the sedge, and commenced push' the craft
backward, with all the strength 0 his arms.
Soon as ge ' into open water ' we were
made aware 0 his reason for this, by hearing
hh ea in a tone of undiminished a rehension:

.“If’ he one of the Iglrand ban 0 egos, and’s
gone in behind, theno y the Virgin can save
us!

By this we had both become anxious as he;

indeed equally ap rehensive of d er. His
wild words, with is excited air an actions,
were well calculated to alarm us

But there was something besides, still further
to intonsif our fem; 1:. ng of our own obser-
vation. we repassed the place where we
had lain-to during the storm, we fancied the
open water was there of less width than when
we left it. ,

Itwas nofanc ,as we had soon reason to
know. For, con uing on in the backward di-
rection, before we had gone quitethree hundred
yards, our e es were greeted. bya spectacle
similar to an cheerless as that they had turned
away from—a long, thin strip of moonlit water,
in the distance narrowing to a thread! As the
bulrushes bending over once more brushed
against our chee the Indian cried out:

“Dias Santos! e acaloté’s blocked at both
ends! It’s all over with us now!”

And ceasing to usehis paddle, he sat still as if
githsrrefiglned to the inevitable, or paralysed

3' WP“

That we were in real danger now—even unto
death—there was not the shadow of a doubt:
though as yet neither I nor my comrade could
fully realize it. Not but that the behavior of
our canoeman furnished us with sufficient rea-

 ggg Eggnde seated onthethwart,though

 

"F

 "V

 

 

 

93Ptain__.°ffi‘e_Rifles'

 

not all the while silent; instead, every now and
then, uttering pious ejaculations and muttering
snatches of prayer; the paternosters taught
him, ready on the lip of every Mexican Indian.

It was as much as We could do to get him ,

roused from his stupor, and induced to resume
his paddle. We succeeded, however; and com-
pelling him to pull back along the acalote, we
examined it more minutely, at both ends and
alon both edges, but without finding any pas-
sage eadi out. It seemed to be yet growing
narrower; ut there was nothing in that to
make us further afraid. With the canoe high
and dry upon the sedge, we would be no worse
of]? than in the slit of water now left us.

To push it through the close-growing lants
was a thing plainly impracticable. The ndian
said so; but we could see it for ourselves, and
did not think of making the attempt. No more
thought we of abandoning the now useless craft
and taking to the cinta itself. We could not
pass over it either by swimming or crawling.

0 set foot upon it would be to break through
and go to the bottom, with little chance of com-
inguupa in. Never was quagmire more pro-
vo_ 'ng; thin to bear our Wei ht and et
With a growth of reeds too thici for ei r
boat or man to make wa aino them.

Several times we rose it) our eet, and stand-
ing tip-toe made survey on every side. Not a
fleck of open water to be seen anywhere; noth-
ing but reeds and rushes, silver-gray under the
weird moonbeams. True, there were the moun-
tains, P_o ate 0 and the White Sister on the
east, Wit _ the ark Ajusco frowning at us from
the 0ppos1tc side; and we could also distin uish
numerous isolated summits, standin solitary
here and there. Near they looked in t e moon-
light, nor were the so very far off; but too far
for us, as we saw t em then.

We could not have been much worse of! cast
away on a desert isle. Perhaps better, with a
boat at our service however small or frail; for
with it there Would still besome chanceto reach
land. As it was, there seemed none here, as our
canoeman, a J ob’s comforter, once more gettin
his tongue untied, kept assuring us. Over an
over a sin he repeated the tale of the pescador
turn to a skeleton, with other like legends of
the Lakes. The man seemed to be wandering in
his mind, and we took no more notice, either of
himself or his narrations.

Oh! it was terribly tantalizing. Land not on-
ly in sight, but the resemblance of it so close
t at we could touch it with our outstretched
hands; grasp the things that grew on it. And

at knew ourselvesto be as far from the real

erra rma, as though the craft which carried
us, lying quiet in the now still water, were toss-
ing about on the waves of mid-ocean!

CHAPTER XIV.
A SWEET RESPONSE.

IN all the record of a somewhat eventful life,
I cannot remember having ssed a more
miserable night than this in he Laguna de
Chalco. I had been lost upon the prairies of
the North, half famished' with hunger and
almost dying of thirst: in imminent danger of
havin m scalp “raised” b redoskins; had
lain l n ht upon the battle- eld, with scarce
a dro of b 00d in mymbod , but a wound which
had epleted me, I lieved to be mortal; had
twice suffered shipwreck, to escape u n a
raft. But to all these incidents I can 100 back
lightly, cheerfully, compared with my remem-
brance of that night of misery spent in the mid-
dle of a swamp' for a most wretched one it
was. True, I had a. companion to share it with
me, if that were any consolation; but, although
imperiled as myself, I do not believe he more
than half comprehended the danger. The
lieutenant of dragoons was 8. 00d, ovial fel-
low but not over urdened Wit brains, and I
could not convince him how critical our situa-
tion was. To make him acquainted with
the nature of the quagmire around us—what
I had read and been told about it—would
have been a difficult task, if not impossible.
He had laughed at the canoeman’s account
of it, treating the whole thing as a joke;
or, at all events, an exaggeration, due to the
oun fellow’s fears. I knew it was not, knew
t bu too well; and so enlightened, felt cor-
responding] sad. Not stran , with such 8.
mos be ore us—a fate bly the same as
hefe the fisherman. In the midst of adisma]
marsh, imprisoned

as securely as within the
walls of a dungeon, to gees da and nights in
wearisome existence' rtu by hunger.—
thirst we need not surf-and then, last and
worst horror of all, the nopilotés (black vulturestji
seen soaring above, on shadowy W135! wi
necks outstretched and blood-stain beaks,
threatenin to swoo down upon us—we too
weak to fig tthem o l .

Such was the picture all that night 
before my mental vision—not in dreams, for
slept not, but in fancy, too likely to become
real.

There was something besides; another bane-
ful thought to harass, making my cup of misery

 

5 her at all—that I had not sta ed and taken our
, chances with the men in t e boats, whoever
i they might be.

“ Would that we were back there now!” was
a wish that more than once I gave expression
l to, my comrade as oft respondingto it. What
I a pity we did not wait their coming 11p, and
1 try the effect of our six-shooters on them! The
. sequence could not have been more serious.

As the shipwrecked sailor, who, all night
clinging to s or or 1‘0 Ia] mast still above the
waves, watc es for t e morning’s light, so
watched we. To see it come at last, but along
with it no sight, sound, or sign to give us hope
of deliverance. Instead, something to make us
more despairing. All night we had heard the
cry of the qua -bird—bittern of the western
world—whose s rill, lu brious note seemed the
foreteller of death. ow in the mornin , with
the sunrise that should have been chee , our
ears Were saluted by sounds proclaiming death
near at hand—the hoarse croak of the turkey
vulture, and the shriller squeal of the harpy
eagle. Birds of both these species had Sighted
us, with a seeming knowledge we must soon be-
come their victims!

Again we stood upright, and gazed over the
cinta, on all sides, round and round. If weird
and woe-inspiring under the moon’s li ht, it
seemed not a whit more cheerful with t e sun
shining upon it. Indeed less; for now we saw
more distinctly the vast wilderness of green
stretching afar, till it met thebases of the brown
rugged mountains, and could better com re—
hen the hopelessness of our situation. he
nearest dry land was miles distant, though had
it been but a furlong, the impossibility of reach-
' it would have been the same.

9 had neVertheless a return of ho , which
came with the daylight, as such ever oes, even
to those lying on a death-bed. And while it
continued we were neither silent nor inactive;
instead, shouting loudly, and at intervals firing
shots from our pistols—signals of distress.
There was some 0 ance they might be heard,
but not much of their being understood. More
likely would they be mistaken for a fusillade of
fowlers’ us, makiplg havoc among the ana-
tida of t e lake. owever, we kept up the
shooting until our last cartri was spent, and
the shouting till we were oarse. Neither
brought response.

a derm'er rcssort we rigged up a pole,
which chanced to be in the canoe, with our
handkerchiefs on its top, extended u n a cross-
piece we had attached to it. This one, we de-
sisted from all further action—less to await the
result, for we scarce looked for any, than be-
cause we could do no more.

In all this the Indian gave us not the slightest
assistance, nor seemed to take any interest in
our efforts. Possibly)r he supposed them to be
idle, and with the c aracteristic apath of his
race, and its faith in fatalism, believed iis time
come. Whatever the reason there sat he in
sullen resignation, a very picture of despair,
aught but a cheerful fellow-traveler on the
journey of death!

And on such both my comrade and I now be-
lieved ourselves launched irrevocably and with—
out return. For Crittenden had at ength, and
long ere this, become convinced of the danger.
He could not avoid it. Doomed to a certainty,
if no he] came from without, and we hadas
good as ven up all hope of that.

So we sat, by the side of death, as it were-—
a death painful as sure, with life-long lin ring;
an end horrible to think of. We did thin of it,
nevertheless. How could we he] , since it was
starin us in the facet—waiting or us!

Litt e conversation was carried on now. All
had been said that needed saying, and our
thoughts were mutually understood without the
necessity of exchan mg speech. They were
very similar, their su ject being the same—the
gloomy fate before us. chected and sick at

eart, we passed the long hours of that day; no
living thing scen save the birds of ill-omen
abovo, and nothing heard but their cries, alike
foreboding evil. nd on through the yet more
irksome hours of another night; listening to the
dismal cry of the great swamp owl, the venge—
ful-like screech of the gruya crane, and tie
wailing notes of the whippowil. It n no
such concert to make us melancholy; we had
cause enough without it.

And yet when morning: in broke over us,
and we once more 100 e upon the snowy
summits of the two great mountains, rose-tint-
ed by the rays of the ascending sun, the eight
so beautiful inspired us with fresh hopes; or, at
least, a desire to live.

Stimulated by this, we again raised our voices,
exerting them to the utmost. We shouted in
turns, loudly calling, and in tones of appeal not
to be en; in the intervals listening in-

tent] .
A linman voice at last—a shout-a r nsive
hail! Thank the Heaveniy and merciful ether!
No pen could paint, or tongue tell, the thrill
of 1joy that ran through us on hearing that
hai. It might be likened to the cry “Re-

 

' f 1. For despite in own immediate
332;, 1 mind not help dwglling on that which
might at the same moment he besetting the In- ‘

dim gunman; that I, had parted from!

prievedl" sent over the heads of spectators, to
the ears of a condemned man standing on tho
Scaffold.

 

13

The shout sosweet to our ears was repeated;
for we had hailed in res use. And then we
heard several voices calling in chorus; one of
which our canoeman recognized. For he also
was now roused from his apathy, and was him-
self agaiu. '

“Praise to the Virgin! Glory to the
Santa Mercedes!” he exclaimed, starting u and
flinging his arms excitedly around. “ You ear,
caballeros? It‘s the Sei‘ior Don Tito who calls!”

Don Tito it sure] was—his presence there
soon after explainei b himself. He had not
come by chance or acci ent, but, carrying out a
purpOSe. in which he had now succeeded, since it
was neither more nor less than tosearch for our—
selves. How he should know we were lost,
scarce needs to be told. Simply, by the canoe-
iuaii not returning to the chinainpas in due time.
The ood alcalde suspecting something amiss,had
sentiis own son—meanwhile returned home—to
San Isidro, to inquire whether we had reached
that place in safet . Taking the more direct route
—the acaloté lea ing to the left—the outh ar-
rived at San Isidro to find from his father’s
friend, that We had not been for the horses
which were to have been furnished us. Speed-
ing back to the chinampgs with this intelligence,
it was there surmised t t we had met with the
mischance, which had actually befallen us. The
violent storm coming suddenly on just after
We had started, led Don Tito to believe that we
were beset by bandoleros of a different sort to
those from whom we had fled. So, summoning
together a score of his people, with their boats,
and lacin himself at their head the worthy
alc de set out to look for us. ’He knew the
route we were to have taken, and found the
acaloté closed up. But, by good fortune on]
for a hundred yards or so at that end; and wit
their broad blades like hay-knives—used for
cutting the cinta—the chinamperos soon hewed
9‘12; a’traek for the canoe, so freeing' us from our

x.

The storm had done damage to the floating

gardens; some of them having broken loose
rein their moorings, and drifted out into the

0 en water. They too had been visited by ban-

oleros, real robbers of the road as Don Tito
had now no doubt the were. They had, as I
sup , made direct or the chinam of the
alcalde; butto find it deserted and t e choza
empty. Apprehending their character, before
they could make landing], he had availed himself
of the means of safetg' inted at, and taken to
the cinta, to return ome after the intruders
had gone off again. This they had done, soon
as the storm permitted, its violence having
affected them too. Disappointed in not finding
their intended victims—my comrade and mi-
self, as we suppmed—they had rowed away wit -
out committing any outrage on the water-dwel-

 

 

ers.

All this we learnt from Don Tito while bein
released from our prison in the sedge. For wedifi
not return with him to the chinampas. He ro-
posed our doing so, offe ’ to send us to
the city in one of his boats, ythe main canal—
a pro sal we declined for reasons. The
bandits might still be at Tia huac, and our re-
volvers were em ty, with nothing to reload
them. It was a it of good luck our having
brought these weapons With us. The sham fish-
erman had seen them upon our persons; and to
that we were no doubt indebted for our lives-—
the dread which the repeating pistol in ires
among all Mexicans, robbers not excepted, av-
ing‘ saved us from being attacked as we passed
Tlalhuac. The bandits had thought better of it,
and changing their plan, desi ed  us
by surprise and under the sh ows of night.

Don Tito, ielding to our wishes, rmitted
us to choose e San Isidro route, an sending
his son along, we had the horses as originally
intended.

In fine, we arrived safe at our respective
quarters—I for one determined never again to
trust in self so far afield, without being accom-
panied y a few files of escort.

CHAPTER XV.
AN INVITATION FOR cmms EVE.

THERE were now three men in or about the
Mexiain capital, any one of whom I would have
given something to set eyes on, and a good deal
to et them all under my glance.

need scarce say who pglwere: the reader
will recognize them as the ‘ef who stole Cap-
tain Moreno’s watch, the boatman who betrayed
us and that elegant gentleman, “ El Guapo. ’

I name them, not accordin to the order in
which 1 was desirous of mreting them, but re-
verse] . As already said, seeing the first would
have n of‘ little service to me, unless some
lucky chance enabled me to identify him. Be-
sides, my afifair With him was only a matter of
lost money, for which I had got in exchange
the warm friendship of a worth man: some
com )ensation certainly. As for e second, I
should know him at sight; and was determined,
if I ever had this advantage to make him sufler
for the series of tricks he played me. I
had no doubt of what his intention had been:
to have me waylaid at Tlalhuac, or somewhere
else upon the canal. But his motive was not so
clear. Could it be that my behavior to him at
the close of our first interview—that rebuke

 

“a... ...-._s.._...-_....._——-——-M....- .

 

l4

with the opprobrious epithet bestowed—had
ained me his deadly hostility, and for that he
iarbored revenge! I have known cases of the
kind among Mexicans of his class, who are ver
( 'orsicuns in their ideas of the vendetta. Stil ,
an a motive was hardly sufficient to account
3 -r so much maneuvering, with the pains it
must have cost him to get me into his wer.
More like, the men he was acting wit were
robbers, himself one who designed getting hold
of my person in order to demand ransom. If
so, or indeed in any case, I was not likely to see
him again either; nor ever more be mysteri-
ousl reminded of having done him a service.

0 all three I wanted most to be face to face
with the Senior Don Hilario, or anywhere with-
in hailin r distance of him. So long as he was
at lar 'e I trembled for the safet of the Indian
girl. for if, as Espinosa had intcd, he was
chief of a robber band, he could reach her a1-
inost anywhere. It did not escape me to think
that his might be the very men whom we had
seen at Tlalhuac, and who followed us to the
chinaiiipas, he leading and the other guiding
them. For the two were ever associated in my
thoughts, from their being near one another
when I first saw them. The only reason for my
not supposing them friends was their apparent
disparity of rank. But as robbers that would
count for nothing; and the ragged fellow might
be in disguise, as the dandy was while counter-
feiting a Red Hat. That t e pelado could play
parts, too, I had now reason to know. Certain
he was no fisherman, or he would better have
known how to row a boat.

And yet there were reasons against my believ-
ing our intended assailants to have the Senior
Don Hilario at theirhcad. If so, why had he not
long ere then renewed the attempt I had frus-
trated by pitching him into the canal? And
with almost a certainty of success?

But was there such a certainty! It mi ht be
not. I recalled the confidence with whic 1 Don
’l‘itohad spoken, when telling me of his means
of escape in case of any outrage being a pre-
hended. Andhe provcdit well founded. uite
likely the Indian alcalde, knowing the disturbed
state of the country and aware that tho trea-
r ure that he possessed in his beautiful daughter
~~—though he could scarce know that so well as I
——had taken precautions for her safety, as his
own. His not permitting the girl to 0 any
more to the city was some evidence of this; and
to believe it true was to me a tranquilizing
thought, doing much to allay my anxiety on
lmr account.

It even reconciled me to not seeing her an
more-alongside the Pasco de las Vigas. Wit)
t'ie danger that I now knew threatened her, I
vsns better pleased to think she stayed at home,
trusting that time would bring about an oppor-
tunity of my meeting her again.

Time did not give me this with any of the
ihreo individuals I was so desirous to see. Days
passed, and though in every walk I took through
the streets or on the Alameda, every ride in
either of the two Pascos or at the head of my
trooi, every visit I and to cafe, restaurant,
market-place, Plaza e 'l‘oros, or theater, I had
my eyes on the alert, interror'ating every Chink
and corner, no more could fget them on any
one of the trio I was so zealously searching
for.

Thus disappointed, I came at length to the
conclusion, that two of them at least were no
longer in the ci'y, and one, if not both, to be
found should be looked for among the mountain
passes—by the Pyramids of San Juan de Tooti-

iuacan.

 

During all this time I was in contact, even
daily communication with him whose acquaint-
ance I had made- under such singular circum-
stances. Captain Moreno and I had in truth be—
come friends, firmly and warme attachedto one
another, notwithstanding the gulf of national en-
mity which, as might be supposed would have
kept us apart. Scarce a day passed that we did
not meet elsewhere; he either visiting me at my
quarters, or I him at his rooms—furnished
apartments, of a su )erior style to those of Colo~
nel Espiimsa. For oreno belonng to the fami-
lius piinripules—his father being a rich hacien-
dadoof the tier-r41 admire—and was but little
dependent on his soldier’s pay; so little, that the
withholding it had not driven him into lodgings
on the enfrl'mwlo.

\Ve often again slipped and dined at the Espi-
i itu Santo, and most as often jestcd and laughed
oVer the odd incident which had been the means
o ’ bringing us together. Long cre this my ex-
penditure on our first supper was repaid me in
kind and far more. For the young Mexican,
lollies being a man of means, was generous as
Ii"ll, and would insist upon >aying for chry-
thing. He borrowed no dou )IOOIIS from me as
his brother oilicer. Es )inosa, had done, without
1' ‘p-iying them. But knew the lancer colonel
: mild not help it; he being always hard 11 for
int needful—bare and naked as the hint e of
his lance. So he jestingly used to say of him-

‘i I .

'i'liings had been going on in this way for
: one time, when, one morning, Moreno met no
countering along the Cello de Plateros. I had
Lady taken more totho “ Street of the Silver-

 

 

Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

smiths,” less frequenting the Paseo de las Vigas,
for reasons easily guessed.

Approaching me with a mysterious air, and
manner somewhat ceremonial, he said:

“Amigo mio ! Do you know that next week
will commence the Pascuas de Nuxvidud?”

“ Of course I do, Captain Moreno. Strange if
I didn’t—I, native of a country where Christ-
mas is kept with all its Observances. But why
do you remind me of its advent?”

‘ Only toask if you have any engagement for
the Nor-he Buena?”

I quite understood what he meant by the

‘ Noche Buena ” that being the Spanish synonym
for Christmas ve.

“It’s on Thursday next,” he added, while I
was reflecting on what reply to make, and whe-
ther m engagements included the night pre
cedin f "hristmas. “ I be you haven’t.”

“ N‘o ” I said, in rejoin er; “ not any for that
night believe.”

“ Then may 1 ask you to spend it with me?”

“I shall do that with the greatest pleasure.
But where? At your rooms, or in the Espiritu
Saute?”

“At neither; nor anywhere in the city. I
want you to go with me to the country, and en—
joy a real dia de compo; see our countr people
and their sports—which you will wh; reI intend
takin you.”

“ othing would more delight me.”

I but spoke the truth. Though conquerors of
Mexico, and holdin possession of the capital,
we were yet outsil ers to its social life—espe-
ciall that more distinctly national, whose cos-
tum res can only be studied in the remote rural
districts, where we dared not go, unless in dis-
guise to observe them.

“ es, senor,” proceeded he, who was in the
act of inviting me; “ I think I can romise you
an entertainment with something but may be
novel to you. As you know, we Mexicans, be-
ing good Catholics, don’t look upon Christmas
in the same li rht as you hei'eficos of the North.
That is, we on’t regard it so much as a reli-
gious festival; though I su ) so we s ind it in a
somewhat similar way. ith as t is “ Noche
Buena” is the great occasion. On that night,
which includes the day as well, rich and poor do
their very best to be happy, or at all events
make believe it. Our rims give grand enter-
tainments—not dinners but suppers—a meal,
amigo mio, I shall always regard with especial
favor, since it was by a supper our friendship
was cemented.”

At this I interrupted him, to return the com-
pliment. I could not have done less.

“ And,” he continued, “the oor, however
poor they maybe contrive on t at occasion to
make a respectable a [warance—dressing in
their best, and setting dishes on their tables re-

ardless of expense. If they don’t taste meat
t iroughout all the rest of the year, they must
certainly have it at their noche buena supper.
And to get it, they often pinch themselves for
weeks before the fiesta, as well as after. But
you shall see for yourself how we spend Christ—
mas Eve, not among the poorer classes, but in
the house of a rico, where purpose introducing

on.”
y “ May I ask who the gentleman is?”

“Of course. It‘s my uncle. He’s a hacien-
dado, and the proprietor of an extensive mague-

at; which I only wish were mine, as it brings
iiim in some thousands a year, with scarce any
more trouble than drawing mone out of a
bank. His hacienda—La Soledad—is some five
or six leagues from the city, b the edge of
Lake Chalco, near San Isidro. I m glad ou’ve
consented to go with me; and be you ll not
withdraw your consent, when I to 1 you the in-
vitation hasn’t originated with myself.”

“ Ah! Have I t e pleasure of knowing your
uncle, then? His name?”

“ Don Joaquin Covarubio.”

“I have heard the name.” I had, for it was
that of one of the large landed roprietors in
the valley. “ But I can’t remem r ever hav-
ing met Don Joaquin.”

“ No matter about him. It wasn’t he who has
made me his deputy in this matter.”

“ \Vho, then? ’

“ My cousins- two rather pretty muchachitas,
who are very desirous of cultivating our ac-
quaintance, and of whose beaut I wan to have
your opinion; knowing you to ’ something of
a connoisseur in that line.”

Stran a, listening to all this, though any thin
but unp casant. For I had heard a good den
of talk about the beauty of the Covarubio girls,
and knew more than one of my brother officers
who would have been glad of an introduction
to them; gladder still to think they desired it.

Of course I felt correspondingly flattered, and
said so, adding:

“As you know, Captain Moreno, I shall be
only too pleased to make the acquaintance of
any of your friends whoever they may be.”

“That’s settled, then; and I shall call for you
on Thursday morning. At what hour?”

“ Choose your own time; any hour after
morning parade. I shall stay in quarters till
\ull come."

I “ Ilia-no! I‘ll be with you by eleven. IVc’Il
soon gallop down to La olednd, in pm! 'itne
for L'..o sperm, which begin early in the after-

 

noon. My uncle intends to have a grand gath-
ering all the country eople within miles; so

ou’ i have an opportumty to study the costum-

res de Mexico. And,” he added with a smile
of peculiar si ificance, “ ossi ly you may
there see somet ing that wil please you better
than all—meet somebody you’ think even pret-
tier than me pretty cousins.”

“ Who?” mechanically asked, with an eager-
ness he could not fail to observe. He had men-
tioned San Isidro. Besides, I well remembered
what he had said about an uncle who lived by
the lake: and with heart wildl heavin I
awaited his answer, more than hal aware w at
it would be. It was as I anticipated:

“La Reina de los Logos.”

At which he again favored me with his pe-
culiar smile.

“Oh!” I said, making an effort to conceal my
emotion, unsuccessful though. “You mean the
Indian girl who sells flowvrs in the San Domingo
market?”

“I mean the Indian girl who sells flowers in
the San Domingo market," was the response, in
provoking imitation of my pseudo -innocent
tone; “ the same from whom a‘ certain officer of
Mounted Rifles has often purchased the choicest
and costliest nosegays, and—”

“ Nonsense!” I blurted out, interrupting him,
as I felt the red rising to my cheeks.

“The same,” he went on, without heading
me, “whose pretty floating flower-garden the
said rifleman was so curious to inspect; and did
inspect, though it came near costing him his
life. Now, amigo mio, do you identify the in'
dividuali” '

I stammered out some re 1 , I scarce remem-
ber what, only that it end in a burst of laugh-
ter, in which we both took part.

‘ Now, Senor Capitan,” he said, drawin our
dialogue to a close, “I think I’ve secure you
ior thg N oche Buena; doubly secured you, have

not?

He had; and knew it, without my making
answer.

CHAPTER XVI.
EN ROUTE FOR THE FIESTA.

ON the Thursday morning, as appointed, Cap-
tain Moreno came to my quarters. mounted and
ready for the road. He found me awaiting him,
with Crittenden, who was to be of the arty—-
the young Mexwan havin made my riend’s
ac uaintance some time be ore, and invited him
on iis own account.

IVe were both in full uniform, booted and
spurred. Our late experience in ranchero dress
had dgiven us a distaste for that suit of thing; so
we etermincd to present ourselves at La Sole-
dad in a costume we were more accustomed to,
if it did not better become us. Moreover to
make sure against another scare from either
robbers or guerilleros, I had detached a half-
dozen files of men to accompany us as escort.
This I could do at discretion, without need to
trouble head—quarters about such a trifle; and
it had all been already arranged with him who
was our host by proxy.

“ The more the merrier,” he said, glancing
at the escort, mounted, and paraded be-
fore us. “Your soldiers—what flne - look-
ing fellows they are l—will greatly add to the in-
terest of the gathering. I’m sure my uncle will
be only too glad to give them entertainment,
while the country folks will go crazy with de-
light, at this new element introduced into the
arena of their sports. For I’m happy to tell
you, caballero, there’s no hostility now, as there
was when you first made a(your a pearmice
among us. on came as inv ers an conquer-
ors; which as a matter of course, our people
didn’t much like. Now, they rather look u n

on as protectors And wit reason, consi er-
ing the way you’ve behaved, especially in ridding
us of road gentlemen. Before your advent they
t2711):}.(10 ’J'oumeying around here rather a risky
mg.

This was true enough, for we had been zealous
in the pursuit of these Mexican brigands, and
had succeeded in breaking up some of the hands,
by the ca ture and execution of several of their
noted lea ers. Still there were others at large,
and one whom I suspected of occasionall mak-
ing his appearance in that part of the v ley We
were about tovisit; so that taking an escort
along with us was a precaution by no means un-
neCessary. Simple prudence called for it.

My brother 0 ccr and I expressed our grati-Z
flcation at hearing the Mexican so deliver him~
self; and everything settled we sprun into
ogr saddles, gave the word “ archl ’ an were
0

Passing out through the “ garita” of San Laz-
aro, we urned our faces eastward, along the
cat National Road which leads from the capi-

l to the coast at Vera Cruz.
It was a lovely morning, the rule rather than
the exception in this charming valley, where
rin ever reigns. If there be an interregnum
’ is w en summer assumes the scepter. Around
us stretched the smiling plain. most of it in
meadow, with here and there a maize field, bor-
dered by rows of mommy/s set in quincunxcs,
these gigantic aloes fermion: the characteristic
' "' ‘ " ' l"fryini‘wa'i them-cat

'\'l'f..',(‘illi:(-.l' '. .

| salt Lake Toacoco, ti . will alittlewa, reflecting,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a

as from avast mirror laid u 'n its back, the
mountain ranges which rose yond, these ap-
pearing part of its frame. Southward on this
same oordillera of the Mexican Andes, known
as the Sierra Madre, Ixticihuatl was com :icu-
ous; La mujer blanca of the Spanish—span ing
inhabitants—the “white woman ” herself seen
reclining upon her back, with knees slightly ele-
vated, breasts protuberant, and head resting up-
on a pillow of snow. Still further south, and on
the same ridge—separated from Ixticihuatl by a
col—towered the lofticr Po atepec, “the
mountain that smokes,”—its ztec appellation
tellin it to have been an active volcano; which
it stil is, intennittcntly. Around the valley
our eyes were carried from summit to summit,
those behind our backs being in the western
cordillera which displays the solitary snow
cone of Toluca; while on our right and left
trended transverse sierras of lower elevation,
though many of them high as Mont Blanc, uni-
ting the two cordilleras, and so com letin the
periphery of this remarkable tab e-lan . It
won (I be dillicultto imagine, much more look
upon lovelier landscape than that we had before
and around us; possessin every element of the
beautiful and sublime, li 'e some vast scenic pic-
ture, framed in rugged rock—work. A scene,
too, teeming with interest to the historian; still
more to the geologist, who at every step may
discover traces of earth uake and volcanic ac-
tion, all the forces of up eaval with the oppo-
site and less rapid processes of erosion and denu-
dation. As he rides across it, from east to west,
or makes the traverse from north to south, he
will not fail to note certain isolated eminences,
less like hills than miniature mountains, rising
directly up from the plain without any uneven-
ness 0 ground around their bases. Some of
these “cerros” are flat-topped, others conical
with aquaint resemblance to tea-cups turne
bottom upward, many having an extinct crater
either in their side or summit. Even in hike
(fhalco itself, as already stated, two or three of
these little volcanoes shoot up out of the swamp,
their facades of dark lava and basalt in strikin
contrast with the rich verdure of the surroun -
in sedge.

n several scouting expeditions made through
the Mexican Valle , whilein the performance
of my duty Iha ridden among and around
these odd elevations, observing them with in-
terested e es. But on this particular mornin
I neither ooked at, nor thought of them. Agl
my thoughts were given to the sort of people I
should meet at La Soledad; but more than all
——I may as well confess it—to one I had met
before.

Would she be there? And would she be glad
to see me? The former question included the
latter and I could not answer it. Moreno had
said ‘ possibly,” without giving an reasons for
his thinking it an uncertamt , an not on any
account would I have asked im for them now.
He seemed already to know enough, or too
much of my love affair; though how he had
come by his knowledge I could not even guess.
I had told no one of m inclinings in that quar-
ter—not even Critten en—and was rather con—

atulating myself on havin kept them secret.

s it ap ared, I was mista en, and so far as
the satis action of secrecy Went, had been but
living in a. fool’s paradise.

If at the fiesta, how would the Queen of the
Lakes comport herself? With di ity,I could
tell; and of her grace there need no guessing.
I could fancy her there, queen of the land as the
lakes. It was not of this however I was think-
ing, but her behavior in other respects. Was
she likel to enact the role of coquette, and so
'nstify ‘s inosa’s insinuationsl or Would she

)e, as I h hitherto seen her, the personification
of ingenuousness—of innocence—to all appear-
ance good as she was beautiful?

As yet I had no jealousy. The ang I had
experienced, listening to the innuen oes of the
would-be go-between, and the talk of the lancer
colonel—borne out by appearances, was not ex-
actly of that kind“ BeS1des, it had long since
passed away, and I no longer dreaded having a
robber for my rival. But there mi ht be a

rival for all that—some outh I not yet
seen, neither heard of. f so, I would surely
see him at La Soledad—supposin her to be

there. Who, and what like would a be? one
of her own race? Absurd the mstion as the
thought! However ure the s in of blood
from Aztec kings, an unchallen ed the line of
descent there was none m the va ey of Mexico
—none 'ving—flt mate for my queen. Sure was
I of that.

Who, then, might be the besieger of her heart
—-if such there was? If such there was! What
a ridiculous condition! There could be no
doubt in this regard; for such there must be—
not one butman . A more rational question
was, had any of t em won it? And if so, who!

I eould fancy her at this fiesta. beset, sur-
rounded by flatterers admirers. Such _a spec-
tacle I should be sure see, still supposmg her
there. But, how could I believe that up to that
hour—she was woman grown, if not of woman’s
age—she had, resisted such a battery of as
sault?

A "racle if sl‘a had, and the greater the tri-
ugp, aria, " Meetertgqposscssherl

ts‘ ...1

 

Captain of the Rifles.
*flmnimmn.
BTRANGELY IN TERROGATED.

JUST as I had made the reflection as above—
unspoken of course—a voice sounded in my ear,
saying:

“ Amigo min ! What are you dreaming
about? A pretty captain of cavalry you, riding
two hundred yards in rear of your troop!
Where should we all be, if suddenly attacked
by guerilleros, or even a partida of salteadores?
My word, Capitan Maynard, I’m half ashamed
of you, and disposed to think, after all, that

'ou re not the smart soldier, ever on his guard,
I’ve heard speak of.”

It was Moreno who thus ironically addressed
me; his chapter of interrogatories, with the re-
marks intermingled, terminating in a loud
laugh. ,

Some excuse had he for all this. After the
first brush of conversation at our setting out
came to a close I had let drop my bridle-rein
and fallen to t 1e rear, reflecting as above de-
scribed. He had been ahead, with Crittenden
and the escort, and halting till I got up, was
again by my side.

His voice roused me from my reverie, with a
quickness which, perha )3, that of no other man
at the moment could ave done. For among
the rivals my imagination had been eonjurin
up he was the figure most conspicuous. An
handsomer figure could not well be than that of
Captain Rafael Moreno, with face and features
to corr nd; the man, as any one would have
in) 'n , to captivate her heart. He, too, hav-
ing ad such 'opportunity! It was not in the
nature of thin s to think he could allalong have
been blind to r beauty; or she to his graces,
with high social position to back them. Her
father might have for progenitor either prince
or king; but his uncle was owner of the land, if
such it could be called, on,which this descend-
ant of a royal race lived, an humble tiller of the
unstable soil—a market gardener! In short,
Captain Moreno would be, in the eyes of the In-
dian girl, as the son of an English squire in
those of his cottager’s daughter—dazzling, irre-
sistible. -

All this had been running through my mind
and more. I had often recalled his defense 0
the chinampera’s character, when being aspers-
ed by Colonel Espinosa, and well remembered
the ex )ression upon his features; one of' ain
certainly, and likely from the same cause w n'ch
affected m self.

Then I t ought of his words later spoken,
when we met in the Cello de Plateros, and he
gave me the invitation I so eagerly accepted—
that little bit of badina , at which we both
laughed. Might it be at he had been only
sounding me—the Queen of the Lakes more the
subject of his thoughts than either of his cou—
sins Covarubio? hether or not, a suspicion of
this was in mine,'at that very moment.

Notwithstandin its innocence, I felt a little
nettled by his rail cry; for I could not he] ) the
belief that he divined my thoughts, or at east
sus ted them. And they were too serious, if
not too painful, to be made sport of under these
circumstances. However, it would have been
ill grace in me to have shown resentment, much
more expressed it. So I but made some com~
mon lace rejoinder, doing the best I could to
laugh along with him—a sorry and rather un-
succele effort.

He did not seem to notice my chagrin, but
proceeded in the same light, jovial strain:

“B the wa , caballero, you’ve not yet told
me w at you t 'nk of m cousins.”

“Your cousins! Of whom are you speaking,
Captain Moreno l” .

“ Why, the Sefioritas Covarubio, of course.”

“What could I think of them, never having
seen them?”

“Oh! es you have; both seen and spoken to
them. nd ’m told, though that’s only hear-
say, were very much pleased with them, espe-
cially Ignacia. She is rather pretty I may ad-
mit, though I am her cousin. ‘or all Marianita
is the most admired. It may not be so much
for her beauty, as from being a little bit of a
coquette. But tell me frankly, caballero, which
is our favorite?”

I] was mystified be 0nd ex ression and began
to think the man ha taken gave of his senses.

“Surely you are jesting with me, Captain
Moreno?

“No, indeed; I’m quite in earnest. But ne-
ver mind; I won’t press the point now. When

ou’ve seen a little more of the youn ladies,
hen I’ll expect you to favor me wi h your
dictum. But see. yonder’s our destination—
the house with a dome and belfry, beyond the
clum of s camores. May I beg your permis—
sion ri e on ahead, as avant courier, to an.
nounce your coming? The La Soledad stables
may need some clearing out, before they can
take in the horses of your escort.”

The rmission was of course taken as grant-
ed; an be ~alloped off, leaving me in a very
maze of be lderment.

As we rode on, I cudgeled my brains thinking
when and where I could have seen the senoritas
Covarubio. Seen and spoken to them! More
expressed a partiality for one of the“; “31?: "
Never! If not making sport of . . ~_ 1

A

15

 

 

must be mad, or, at the least, strangely mis-
taken.

Stay! I had met several Mexican misses
with names unknown to me, on the Paseo and
in the Alameda; had exchanged salutations
with some, even speech, rather informally.
Might the Covarubio girls have been among
these? If so, the admiration sto was a myth;
for I could not recall having 1M mired any of
them, much less said so. Just possible—it oc-
curred to me in conclusion—some other indi-
vidual wearing the uniform of the Mounted Ri—
fles has been making himself agreeable in that
quarter, and for him, not me, was this invita-
tliolll meant—to spend Christmas Eve at La Sole—
( at l

Reflan in this fashion, I began to fear I
had “put my foot in it,” or, at least Captain
Moreno had done this for me. If sue a. mis-
take really had been made, and it looked like
enou h, I would cuta sorry figure at the festivi—
ties, )esides causing disappointment, and pos-
sibly a good deal of chagrin, either to Ignacia,
or the more admired Marianita.

However, the fault was not mine, nor could
it be so construed. Consin Rafael would have
to bear the blame, and make such excuses as he
could to the disap )ointed damsels. Consoling
myself with this t ought, and another which
gave me still greater comfort, I little regretted
the blunder, if such it were, that was bringing
me to the house of Don Joaquin Covarubio.

We were now close to it, and could see it was a
massive, quadrangular structure of the Moorisian
st 'le of architecture, flat-roofed, and parapetted
a1 around with a wide entrance in front which
led toan inner court. Alongside it, and partiall
detached, stood the (-npilla, or chapel, surmoun

ed by a dome of glazed tilework: while in rear'

were the domestic offices, and still further aback
a collection of ranchifus, where dwelt the us
and other employés of the establishment. rom
the fields around, growing mugucys, man of
which we had passed by in approaching he

lace, it could be told that La 80 edad was what

‘aptain Moreno had said, a ngum/al. A lar
barn-like building at the back was unmistakab y
the final-a1, a place where, by the process of
fermentation the sap of the gigantic aloe, called
tllm-h' He, is converted into the national bever-
age pu que.

At a glance, takin in all this, our eyes return-
ed to the ground in rent of the dwelling, where
we saw s1gns of festal preparation on an ex-
tensive scale. A grand structure of the canopy
kind had been erected, its sup orting posts fes-
tooned with ever ens an flowers! while
around it were stal s, screened from the sun by
petufes, squares of palm, or bulrush matting on
tripod stands, beneath which certain copper-
skinned hucksters of trinkets, drinkables, and
comcstiblcs, had already laid out their lures. ,

It was yet too eaer for the sports, or the as-
sembling of the people who were to take part in
them; and throu h these temporary erections
we rode on up to t e house. There to see, stand-
ing in the open doorway, with head oourteously
uncovered to receive as a stout elderly gentle-
man, whom I fancied I l’xad seen before. I was
sure of it, after glancing up to the azotea, where
two pretty feminine faces appeared above t
coping of the parapet, with a set of masculine
features between them. ‘

“Now, caballero!” called down Captain Mo-
reno, laughing as he spoke, “ do you still persist
in saying you’ve never seen my cousins Covaru-
biof If so, let me have the pleasure of introduc-
ing them. This Marianita; this Ignac‘ whom
-—, well, I won’t say‘what I have he . Dis-
mount, and make your way u 1 here!”

All was explained now. It did not need climb-
ing to the housetop to tell that the two ire of
dark eyes gazin down at me, were t e same
from which I ha received glances of gratitude
in the Teatro N acional!

\
CHAPTER XVIII.
m COVARUBIO GIRLS.

FROM the city to La Soledad being a matter of
fifteen miles, our appetites were 5 arp enough
when we reached t w hacienda. But our host
had providentially thought of this, and We found
an elegant spread awaiting us in the sala dc
comer. Among the Mexicans there is no such
meal as luncheon. The day commences with
dcsayuna, which is simply a cup of coffee, more
commonly chocolate, with a sweetcake or biscuit.
This taken at an early hour, for the Mexicans
are early risers—most of the ladies doing devo-
tions in the church, With not unfrequent y a lit—
tle flirtation, between six and seven; then re—
turning home, and going back to their beds,
where they lie till nearly eleven. ’Tis at their
second uprising that the real breakfast, alma-
erzo, is brought upon the table; this, aswith the
French, being a dyjuncr d. In fwrchctte, with
various meats and wines—in reality mere din-
ner than breakfast. The dinner, comida, a very
elaborate affair, is late in the afternoon; but
flipper, rem, is not largely indulged in. save on
e raordinary occasions, as was to be this of
“ Nochc Bucna.”

The luncheon set before us was indeed the
breakfast, deferred till our arrival, and all the
members of the family nut us at the table. The
were not amnerous; only Don. imam 

 

‘ .

16

his two daughters, and the youth, their brother
with the cupcltun—a priest, who administered

to the spiritual wants of the magueyul, his

cha iel being that alread spoken of as attached
to the dwelling. Then t ere was cousin Rafael,
(.‘i'ittenden, and myself.

lt was but natural our conversation should
turn upon the episode in the theater, and that
this Would be almost the first to ic taken up.
Which it was; the younger of t e two girls,
Iillll'iflnlta, be inning it.

“ What wil they do to him, senor?” she said,
addressing herself to me. “ I hope the poor fel-
low won’t be too severely punished.”

“ Poor fellow, indeed !’ cried Captain Moreno,
who had overheard the question and remark.
“ A strange way to speak of a man who behaved
himself so badly. I hope they’ll punish him with
all severity.”

“Cruell’ exclaimed she whom Moreno had
pronounced a little bit of a coquette. “And,
after all, what did he do?”

" Tried to kiss you, and you only,” answered
the cousin, in a tone of playful sarcasm, adding:
“ [ suppose that’s why you wish his punishment
to be light. ”

This was a home—thrust; for in int of fact
it was the younger of the sisters ullivan was
doing his best to get hold of, when I entered the
box. I could remember it by the other—who
was much the taller—having been to all appear-
ance unmolested.

The rejoinder cousin Rafael received, was a
crumb of biscuit flung across the table at him,
with the words:

“ That for your impertinence, sir!”

This called forth a general lau h; in which,
soon regaining her temper—for er eyes had
flashed angrily—the young lady herself joined.

“ Well,” she said braving it out; “ you know
the man was cmbrmguudo.”

“Which means, I presume, that if he hadn’t
beeng‘ntoxicated, he wouldn’t have cared to kiss

on.

y This time Captain Moreno, for it was he again
who spoke, biu an orange sent full in his face,
and with a force that made him wince!

It was a good shot, and well deserved, as all
laughingly said-all save Dona Ignacia.

She instead only smiled, wit iout speaking,
and it occurred to me that she felt something
more than ordinarly sgmpathy for her cousin, so
neatly discomfltei . n this con'ecture I was
wide away from the mark, as I a terward came
to know.

What was thus taking place at the luncheon
table might seem somewhat bizarre. But be it
remembered, that it was Christmas Eve, when
in Mexico everything is allowed—-even in the
best society, as this undoubtedly was. The
flinging of the orange, however, while raising
the nierriinent to its highest, brought the gay
bantcring to an end; Don Joaquin himself, now
more seriously asking, what had been done to
the officer arrested.

“Nothing as yet,” I said in answer. “He is
to be tried by court-martial, and in all likelihood
will be condemned, and dismissed the service.”

Though in no way connected with my story, I
may be pardoned for digressing to tell what af-
tetward became of this unfortunate man.
For, bad as he might be, his fate was sad and
bitter—even beyond descrving.

It turned out as I had redicted. He got
cashiered; the commission w ich he had won by
distinguished services, and held but a brief pe-
riod, was taken from him; his shoulder-straps
torn off, and himself sent adrift, to go whither-
saicvor it might please him, but with the brand
of infamy on his name.

Disgraced, shunned by his old comrades—even
those in the ranks, by whose side he had shoul-
dered the musket—who could blame him for
fleeing their presence and g‘oing over to the one-
my? Which he did, beta iug himself to San
Queretaro, where, as already said, the Mexicans
still kept up a form of government, with the
skeleton of an army. Making offer of his tar-
nished sword it was not only accepted, but him-
self promoted to a far higher rank than he had
held in the army he involuntarily abandoned.
In short, he was made a colonel, uni-tum on the
spot, and given the command 0 a regiment!

lut again his evil star was over him, and his

good fortune, as bcfore, of short continuance.
For soon after was signed the treaty—known
as that of Guadalupe, from the town in which
the commission met—restoring peace between
the contending armies, and we, the invaders,
evacuated the country.

Scarce were we out of it, when one of its “ pe-
culiar institutions ” displayed itself, in the shape
of a grim, or pronimcmmcnfo, as Mexican
ievoliitioiis are iiidiil'erently called. This one
was got up by the famed guerrilla chief a Span-
iard and priest known as the “ Padre .Iamuta,”
Sullivan taking sides with him. It was against
the then lawfully constituted governmentdf the
country, which was far from heiu firmly es—
tablished. It proved strong enough, owevcr, to
withstand the attack of the partisan priest;
who, defeated and taken prisoner. was, with
.".'"ll'('f‘ the form or ceremony of trifll,‘l)ll8(lll0
qu' (as drums—in .plain English she. And
clong With him retired ‘ienranant, Hit. mom.

toly for himself, act I _'  llivsn.

 

 

 

 

 

Beadle’s Dime Library.

To return to the gay and ha py circle, for the
time so unceremoniously forsa en.

“I shall be glad to hear of the gentleman
flitting his deserts.” This said by Captain

oreno. “And plenty' of punishment, too,” he
continued. “If he et him off without any,
I lshall have some ' g to say to him my-
se f.

At which implied threat, she who came so
near being kissed against her will, and had so
late thrown the oran e at her cousin’s head,
now looked apprehenswely, appealineg in his
face as much as to sady:

“ Ch, dear Rafael, on’t! you mustn’t think of
callin him out. You must not, indeed!”

So interpreted the expression on her fea-
tures which surprised as much as it puzzled me.
Had it been upon the face of her sister, I could
have better understood it. But Dona I acia
looked calm, almost unconcerned; whi e the
eyes of the other, after first showin anxiety,
seemed to sparkle with pride, as she ept them
fixed on him who was ready to dare death for
her sake.

I was not long at that luncheon table before
discovering that the bits of biscuit and oran s
flung across it were but as shafts sent from -
pid’s how, when the love— od is playing the
game of cross- urposes. It came clear to me
that I had ma e a mistake, and what I had tak-
en for hostility was but the “ fond rage”
oft “blighting the life’s bloom” of lovers.
It was not likely however, to do that
with Captain Rafael Moreno and Marianita
Covarubio. From the glances I saw eve now
and then at the very shortest in rv 8, ex-
changed between them, I came to the conclu-
sion they would ere long stand to “ch other in
a relationship closer than cousins. A remark
he had made during our morning’s ride helped
me to this: “Marianita is the most admired.”
He may have most admired her; but for myself
I could not help thinking, interrogatively:
“ Where are his e es?”

Another thong t, leasanter and more satis~
factory, came from he discover I had made.
A man cannot well be in love wi h two women
at the same time. Vanity, or wickedness, may
stir him to make such pretense. But I knew
that Rafael Moreno was neither vain nor wick-
ed, and this convinced me I had made still
another mistake in my 811 icion of his having
an eye for the Indian gir . Need I add how
much it rejoiced me to think so?

Before we left the table I observed the prom-
ise of another “aflinity;” at least I saw a man
in ,the act of fallin in love. Crittenden was
evident] smitten With the older sister; his eyes
repeate ly, though stealthil , turning toward
her. So much seemed he a ected as to have
his a petite spoiled for the re t. dcarce tasted
he 0 the delicious dishes so before him, and I
knew my brother officer was aught but an an-
chorite.

I was curious to discover whether his new-
. rung ion was likely to be reci rocated.

,uite probable that it would, if Dona gnacia’s
all'ections were not pre-engaged. For I was
well aware that the dark-eyed dent-ellus of
Mexico have a partiality for ‘ Los Gui‘ros ”—-as
men of blonde complexion are called—and the
fiery face and fox-colored hair of the great dra-
goon would be no bar to his finding favor in the
eyes of even that stately beauty.

Certain] she seemed not 'spleased at the
glances o admiration given her, which she
could not help noticing.

“ Now, amigo mio,” said Don Rafael drawing
me aside after the ladies had left the luncheon-
table'. “According to promise, I call for your
e iinion. What think you of my cousins? Are
t ey not may lindasf”
th“ Lipdissi'mas! Very lovely, indeed, both of

em.

“And which do you consider the prettier?”

“ I know which you consider so.”

“I acia‘!”

“ o; the future Senora Moreno.”

“Oh, nonsense!” he rejoined, with a laugh,
looking a little sheepish. “Come along!” he
added, not carin to question me further; “let
us out, and see file sports. Bv this they’ll be
beginning.”

 

CHAPTER XIX.‘
A MEXICAN rilrs-cnxnrnmn.

IN no part of the world are there more days
devoted to .merry-making than in Mexico.
Ever week has its fiesta, either religious or
simp y for amusement, though in all there is
much of the latter. And among the people on
such occasions assembled, no country can show
a finer or more varied display of dresses.

When, chaperoned b Captain Moreno, I re-
turned to the front of t m house the sight which
met my eye was one worth looking at, and not
likely to be forgotten. Durin the hour we had
been at luncheon, the festive people had been
arrivin 1' in flocks; and now the green meadow
in whic the canopy stood, was well cove
with them, standing in groups or promenading
to and fro. There was the ronchero in all the
pride and panoply of his supei li coslulnc, tight-

 

flttingjuquwm, mlzonrras, calzmwillus, sash of
silk crepe. bolus and sombrero, tl‘e hr? lravlly

i...;..i..i \..'.'.. gold or silver bullion, the boots'

havin spurs on them with rowels inches in
diame rl The arriero too, not in his every-
day wear of thick doublet and leathern apron,
as when managing his mules; but in a gala suit,
gaudy in hue and rich in quality as that of the
ranchero but of a quite different cut and pat-
tern. estizoes from the towns and villages
also wore the wide velveteen trowsers, buttoned
along the outer seams from hip toankle; coatless
and jacketless, but with finest linen shirts elabo-
raterl stitched about the breast—the universal se-
rapé angin folded over their left shoulders. A
sprinkling o town dwellers of a lower clam, and
less respectable character, also formed part of
the concourse—the so-called leperos and pelados
distin ished by a cheaper kind of wrap worn
over t ieir shirts of coarse cotton stuff.

Last of the gente de razon—as all Mexicans
with white blood in their veins are indifferently
designated-were the haciendados, or landed
fientry of the neighborhood, who, though of

ighest rank, were the least conspicuous of any
asregarded dress—most of the gentlemen a -
pearing in roundabout 'ackets of somber b -
cloth, or frock coats of e same, and trowsers—
some in the latest Paris fashion, wearin patent
leather boots, and the orthodox silk “ ti.e.”

The feminine portion of the assembl did
not show such a great variety of dress, t ough
several styles were observable. And in thi as
with the men, the milchachas of the mid le,
and even lower ranks had the advantage of the
ladies of the elite; their short-skirted, bri ht-
banded petticoats, with the embroidered ut
sleeveless chemise and the stockingless ankles
ending in small satin slippered feet, ve them
an opportunity of displaying their c arms, de-
nied to the ad dames, who had ado ted the
fashions of urope. But even among t ese the
hideous bonnet was nowhere to be seen. Most
of them were a silken chalé, drawn over their
heads instead of restin upon their shoulders;
while not a few appeare in that most becomin
of costumes—the manlilla—with tortoise-she
comb Set high on the crown, and black lace veil
drooping aback from it.

None of these styles of apparel were new to
me, though it was not on this account I regard-
ed them with but a careless glance. For there
was yet another sort of garb upon the ound, I
was more desirous of observing; the dge of
a different race of people—the conquered one—
the gente sin razon as the Indians are some-
times contemptuousiy called. Nor was there
any lack of its representatives there, but hun-
dreds of them, who as a rule, kept apart from
the descendants of the conquerors—whether
these were of pure blood, or a blending with
their own.

Nothing could be simpler, or with less preten-
sion to icturesqueness, than the ordinary wear
of the exican Indian—that is, of the men-
difi'ering but little from that worn by their an-
cestors when their country was called Anahuac.
A coat without sleeves—the tilma—in she a
sack with a hole in the bottom, throu h w ich
the head is passed and another on cue side to
let out the arms. This, with a pair of wide
short-legged drawers of coarse calico, or tanned
sheep-skin, a hat of straw ilait upon the head,
and a pair of rude sanda s, gunraches, on the
feet, and on have the modern Aztec Indian of
the mascu ine gender.

Nor is his mate much more elegantly attired,
when in her ordinary everyda dress. A coarse
woolen petticoat, the material ome-spun, home-
woven, and dyed at home, almost universally
dark blue, with a white cotton chemise, and
sometimes a gray scarf of the reboso kind, the
cheapest and commonest; these constitute the
sole wardrobe of the Mexican Indian woman.
If she wear head—dress at all, it will be a hat of
precisely the same pattern as that worn by her

usban . But, as a rule, she goes bareheaded,
her lon black tresses done up in two distinct
plaits, angin r down her back and never with-
out a piece 0 bright red ribbon, twisted into
their ends.

To this plainness of attire, however, there are
exceptions. For among the Mexican Indians
there are ranks and classes, 'ust as with the so
called superior race—a “no )ility and gentry,”
with privileges acknowled ed, and as well un-
derstood by their own peop e, as they would be
by the people of England, had the a place in
the boo sof Sir Bernard Burke. It is amen
this class, that the retty Indian maidens, o
mentioned by travc ers, are to be found. And
with these the costume, though still marked by
simpl‘city, is both graceful and becoming. They
have in rt adopted the dress of their white
sisters—c ieflgllthose of the specialty poblmm—
wearing the nded petticoat and embroidered
chemisette. But, in addition a cloak-like liar-
ment, the hili’pile, loosely an gracefully drap—
ed, gives character to their dress; as does also a
white kerchief coveringbzhe crown of the head,
with ends falling down hind.

And for one, who if there, would in all likeli-
hood be a pareled somewhat after this fashion,
I was look ng.

A goodly number of the Indians present had
come to make profit out of pleasure; and, Seated
under the palate Scrcens, were be raising lliiir
\v  -! iz‘l iozus, proc aiming their
0‘ '5... I -

~~

 

 

 

<-.o;.v,- - - ‘
.;,.\.m..wsnwgi unsung ' ‘

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

,. a”, -.,..  ,3

. am.» 7. ..

 

 

 

 

But there were at the fiesta others, only as '

sight-seem, in their grandest gala dresses; and
it was through the ranks of these my eyes went
and wandered.

All to no purpose. She I was seeking for
seemed not to be there!

Just as I had completed In exploration, hav-
ing gone all over the groun , the sports of the

y commenced. They were of the usual kind,
all strictly national, and comprised “ tailing the
bull,” “running the cock,” fightin chanticleer
as well, with feats of equitation. gome of these
last were wonderful indeed, almost incredible.
As for instance, the horseman, with his horse in
full gallop, bending down and liftin a dollar
piece from the ground; the coin to be ept as the
reward of his adroitness.

As I had been witness to all of them before, I
cared less for looking at them now. But I con—
fess to another cause then depriving them of in-
terest. This carried me once more over the
field, my eyes searching everywhere—more es-
pecially scanning the grou of Indian girls,

hough not scrutmizin their faces. There was
no need to do that. ad the one I was in quest
of been there, it would have been conspicuous as
the moon amid stars.

CHAPTER XX.
THE LATEST ARRIVAL.

IN my researches I was left to myself, my
chaperon having forsaken me. He found metal
more attractive in his cousin Marianita; and as
the other affinity appeared to be progressing, I
saw but little of Crittenden throughout the
afternoon. So far as any flirtation, I was likely
to be but a lmker-on—rather an uninteresting
part to play, at firslu, or elsewhere. In short,
my company seemed de trap, turn which way I
would; and, as I had commenced the role of
walking entleman, I continued it—sauntering
round an round.

A dull Christmas Eve it promised to be, for
me at all events; and this after lookin forward
to something so different! Nor cool I antici—
pate cheer in the grand cena which was to suc—
ceed. I knew that, even if “La bells.” came,
she would not be of the supper party: an exclu—
sive affair, confined to friends of the family—a
social circle tabooed to all of her class.

I was still continuing m lonely perambula-
tions—doing the best I con (1 to feel an interest
in the games that were going on—when a sweet,
musical voice Bounded in my ear, saving: .

“ You seem strangely abstracted, Senor Capi-
tan! 1 fear our rural pastimes are but little to

your liking?”

At lost some one a(p red tobave taken com-
pasion upon me; an urning, I saw it was Dona

gnacial

I started as one caught in the commission of
acri-"e. Flor there was something in her speech,
and its tone which led me to suspect that she
knew wh Iwas proving so unoompanionable.
She was one, havmg parted from him who had
been monopohzmg her company most part of the
time since we left the lunc eon-table. I noticed
that she looked a. little excited, with a flush upon
her face, which rendered her beauty all the more
piquant, and im ing. A beautiful woman she
was—for she h passed the age of girlhood—a
very type of the gracia Andalusiana—such as
any painter would have been glad to get for a
sitter. But for my heart bein already captive
to another, I would in all likeli ood have hailed
the encounter with delight; and perha have
flattered myself with the thought, that t might
not be altogether accidental. As it was, I only
looked upon it as a little awkward, and wished
she had stayed with the enamored dragoon,
from whom she had, no doubt, dragged herself
away for a moment, commiserating my loneli-
hem.

Thought is quicker than speech, and all these
reflections were instantaneous, as I stammered
out a response.

“ On the contrary, sefiorita, very much to my
liking. They are indeed most interesting. But
as I’ve seen something of the kind be re, of
course—”

“ Of course you’d prefer seeing something
else,” she said, catching up my words at the
point where I had stuck. “ Or rather somebody
you have seen before, and, unlike the games,
greatly desire to see again. Am I right in my
con 'ecture t”

I confused already, I now felt doubly so—
almost enough to deprive me of the power to use
my tongue. This woman, almost a stran er to
me, seemed to comprehend all, and why was
wandering about.

She did that surely, as her next speech con-
vinced me. , ,,

“ Never mind making answer, she went on,
without waiting for it. “I know your secret,
senor; and it may give 3;?“ NW” 39 be mid
there’s no need for you fear dim lntment.
She will be here sooner or later. at lepera
never fails to show herself. where she thinks
there’s a chance of being admired—especially if
there’s to be dancing.”

Listenin to these words, my surprise beesme
amazemen . The tone, the toss of the head, the
scornful twitchin of her mustached lip—for Ig-
nacia Covarubio ad this virile sign of Southern
Spain, by many deemed beautiful—all com-

 

 

Captain of the Rifles.

bined to make up the mm of my astonish— Indeed, just then, I did not desire the grand l -

ment.
I had no doubt as to whom she made allusion.

That was clear by what had been already said. i

She, so contemptuously styled “ lepera,” could

be no other than the Queen of the Lakes.
Coincidence somewhat strange, though ever

so accidental.

q

1
1

ll

dv’s prescnco, and would have bccn only too
pleased at being disexnbnn‘asscd of it, had the
relief been brought about in a different way.
As it was, I regretted it; and likely enough

. would have reason to regrct it still further.

Before I Could gather myself for 1

No use standing there to reflect on-ihe fame
as I had made; nor had I the inclination.

replying to a speech, which, while giving snr- ; l‘hero was that near by would soon bring ob—

prise had also a. little nettled me, there came a ‘

sudden hush, succeeded by ejaculations, a man
who st<xxl near crying out:

“ Mira ! La Reina do 108 Lm as I”

And she it was, her brother y_her side, the
two just entering the incloscd ground where the
forts were progressing. She was in a gala

ress, of the special kind worn by publlmas; the
enugua of short skirt, laco-frin red around the
bottom; below silk SIA ickings an satin slip rs;
and above the snow-white cumisa of finest llll('ll,
sleevch-ss, and epaulcttcd with the same sort of
fringing at the s ioulders; over this a loose flow-
ing robe, more characteristic of the costume of
her race: the hm’pilc, of light colored stuff. In—
dian or Chinese silk ; such fabrics reaching Mexi—
co across the Pacific, through the port of Aca—
pulco. Some flowers, resembling orange blos—
soms—blunwrias—were tastefully arran red in
her raven-black hair, which was plaitc and
gathered over her crown. But above the flow-
ers, which were set along the side of the massive
coil, was a white crape scarf, folded and 1 ing
flat—its doubled edge just flush with her ore-
hcad—the two ends fringed with silver bullion,
falling behind her back. This, with broad gold
earrings, a strin of coral around her neck, with
charms attach , and ban '1] over her full
round bosom recalled the ta ian contadinu,
while her dark com lexion, and the damask red
of her cheeks, add to the similitude.

As she came across the smooth meadow, mak-
ing ap roach not timid'ly nor yet boldly, but
with t at free, fearless step peculiar to the
American Indian, all eyes were turned upon her.
No one there could have justly questioned her
claim to at least one of the titles she bore—the
“beautiful chinampera.” For uch a being, to
be contemptuously styled lepera was the very
perversity of speech.

While mentally making these reflections——
which all did not occupy over ten seconds’ time
——I had almost if not uite, forgotten the grand
dame who had so spo en of her. Ill-manners
it was; and, turning to make apology, I discov-
ered that the lady was no longer by my side!

CHAPTER XXI.
PLAYING SPY.

DORA lesson had walked off, leaving me to
myself. Looking after I saw she was on return
to the party from whic she had separated, and
thou ht of following her, with the excuses that
had been forming on my tongue. But before
settin after, I Observed something which ad-'
monis ed me that it would be only to make mat-
ters worse. Though her back was toward me, I
could tell by her carriage she was offended.
There was something in her gait, and the style
of her step, which seemed to say, “ The wretch!
I could trample him under foot, and take delight
indoin so.”

I ha “put m foot in it,” that was clear.
Equally so, that it would take something more
than a common apolo to get me back into the

00d graces of lgnacm. Covarubio. I was like-
Fy to be out of them for the rest of that day, if
not ever after.

Perhaps at any other time I might have more
regretted the httle contretem s, but just then
it did not vastl vex me. 0 say truth, her
fling at the In ian girl had vexed me much
more; and now that she was gone I set me to
thinkin what could have been her motive.
Among exicans, the term “ lepera ” is synony—
mous with canaille; and coming from t e lips
of alady in such sneerin tone, with the other
speeches conjoined, it ha all the more signifi-
cance. If there had been jealousy in the case I
could have understood it; but up to that mo-
ment, with this lady I had not exchanged a.
dozen words. Crittenden, behaving as I was
would have been more like] to give her ground
for jealousy; since he had in with her most
part of the afternoon, and as I could see, as-
siduous in his attentions. Vilhy then should I be
under the ban of her rebuke? And why the In-
dian girl so opprobriously spoken of ?

After all, it was not so incom rehensible. It
couldbe explained b the ri e of birth and
blood—the sangre azu rebel ing at being put in
the scales, even by implication, with that of the
despised race. For it now occurred to me that
Moreno, who had ot behind my secret some
how, must have ‘parted it to his cousins.
Hence Dona Ignacia’s ispleasure with me—from
no jealous feelin since such could not exist,
but simply that had offended, or was offend-
' a inst caste.

I not committed an offense against good
manners—for, to speak truth, I had stood too
long with my back turned upon her—little
should I have recked of what she or “ society”
might think of my admiration for the Indian
gr). It was too sim-cre and strong, my heart

far gone for me to care for consequences—
least of all e world’s criticisms and caprices.

 

 

livion of it; ay, had brought it, ere Ignacia Co—
varubio was quite out of my sight.

I had conceived a purpose, which I now set
about carrying out—~one by no means novel,
h0wever questionable its character. For I in-
tended to play spy on the chinampcra! If such
action were ever excusable, it should be in my
case. On her I had luvishcd all my heart's love
—-I knew that now—embarked its whole trca-
sures; and were she not worthy to hear them it
would for me be shipwreck indeed. I IDUSt
know something of the craft thus freighted—
more than I knew already.

A knowledge I could not otherwise gain; for
of whom wasI toinquire'! I dare not address
myself to Captain Moreno. Nor was it likely
that he could tell me all that was wanted, even
if I had. His acquaintance with the girl, as I
had come to understand, was limited to what
had been told him by his cousins. And here was
one of these same cousins casting insinuations
at her—even open reproaches!

“ That Iepcra never fails to show herself where
she thinks there’s a chance of being admired—
es -ially where there’s dancing.”

ittcr Words they had been to me, conveying
the impression of vanity and frivolity, with the
suspicion of something worse. They had, in
fact, brought back into my mind the torturing
thoughts I experienced listening to the wickcd
suggestions of the pelado,and the slanderous hints
of Colonel Espinosa. As yet but slight opportu-
nity had been afforded me of testing the truth
of one, or the other. In a way, it was ofl'ered
now, and I resolved to avail myself of it.

I had no reconceived plan—not thinking of
the thin ti that moment. And, indeed, all I
intend doing, was to watch the girl‘s behavior
durin what was left of the day, and the hours
of nig t that were to succeed.

I began by placing m self in a sort of ambush,
where she was not like y to see me. She might
not know that I was there; though the presence
of my men, who were mingling with the crowd,
would warn her of soldiers at the fiesta, differ—
ent from those she was accustomed to see on
such occasions. She would recognize their uni-
form, I knew; still she might not think of in-

uiring who was the ofiicer with them. The tall,
fiery-faced dragoon—for Crittenden stood six
feet in his stockings—was more con icuous than
I; and she would take it to be he. till, she had
seen us together on the chinampa, and might
think we were both there now.

Notwithstanding all this, I had got under
cover, behind one of the flower—bedecked stands,
where pulqw‘, chia water, and other light drink-
ables were retailed, and commanded a view of
the entire arena of the sports, with the specta-
tors around. But from my point of observation
I saw naught to sadden; instead, much to make
me glad. It atitied me to observe, that wher-
ever the chmampem went—and she walked
about everywhere, all the while accompanied
by her brother—she was treated with courtesy,
which had all the air of respect. This, too, by
people of every class and calling. The ranch-
eros, and arrieros—even the ra ged pelados—
took of! their hats to her; whi e the ‘I'icns, no
less polite, though not an more, respectfully
saluted her as she pas them—some of the
young “swells,” showing themselves desirous to

old urther speech with her, which was grace-
fully, not coqucttishly, declined.

But it was the people of her own race who
paid her most attention; these, as she walkid
past them uncovering, and saluting with a
deference, humble even to subscwience. They
a peared to be proud of her as a representative
0? their nation—subdued and long subjectal—of
their kings dethroned. but still reverenced. Not
one there but knew that in her veins ran the
royal blood of Tenochtitlan: knew her to be. a

rmcess: and that it was but slight misnomer
call her the “ Queen of the Lakes. ”

Need I say that I was satisfied, gratified at ob-
serving all this?

Something besides saw I, to make me still
more glad. As she was promenading around.
she came opposite a group 0f men who stood by
one of the stalls, drinking anisecd, or it might
be Catalan brandy. More likely the latter, Sim-c.
they wore the uniform of the U. S. Mounted
Rifles. She gave a start on seeing them; but.
instead of keeping her eyes fixed upon the sol-
diers. she looked round and round, as though
searching for some one else; gazed, and gazci'
a ain in every direction!

ow my heart pulsed within me, kegsing timc
to pleasure’s sweetest tune, as l fanci that in.

‘ qmring look was for me!

CHAPTER XXII.
TAKEN T0 TASK.
Inrnmrmo his last kiss on the snowy brow of
the “White Woman.” rose-tinting it as though
it blushed, the cur. wont do“ n over the western

18

393F119? Pigeclfibmm

 

 

 

Cordillera; the shadow of whose higher summits
thrown afar across the valley, soon became
blended into the purple of twilight.

Short is the interval between day and night
on this elevated table-land, allowing just time
to trim lamps, and get them ready for lighting.
For outdoor pastimes neither lamps nor torches
need be lit there, if it be that part of the month
when the moon should show herself. ‘Rarely is
this luminary obscured by clouds, and when not,
almost turns night into day.

On this night, however, as there was to be
dancin under a canopy, the darkness there
called or illumination, and rows of lamps, with
wax candles, had been already ranged around
it, to be lit as soon as required.

During the short twili rht there was an inter-
regnum in the sports—t e invited guests—the
ban ton—being taken inside the house for cham-
pagne, and 0t er light refreshments, while _the
01‘ polloi became distributed amon the various
booths and stands to drink  I, Catalan, or
agnardiente.

For my part I would have preferred remain-
ing outside, but Moreno had 0t hold of me, and
I could not refuse following iim. I was afraid
he would bring me face to face with her, whose
late interview with me had been so unsatisfac-
tory to both of us. As it was, however, on en—
tering the sala de comer, where the wines were
set out, I saw only gentlemen—the ladies having
retired totheir dressing-rooms to do a little toilet
business for the builfi.

“ B the way, caballero,” said he, as we stood
toget er, hock glasses in hand “ you and cousin
I cia don’t seem to do muc in the conversa-
tion line; you leave all that to your friend, the
lieutenant. Well, you must admit she’s a Very
beautiful creature.’

“ No one can help admitting that.”

“ The very woman, I should have thought, to
‘ captivate you. Don’t you think she has caught

the dragoon l” he adde( , with a laugh.

“(Jan lit and secured him, I should say; for
life, if s 0 Wish it so.”

“ Ah! I don’t think she would quite wish
that. Perhaps,” he went on, regarding me with
a peculiar look, “ if it were some one else she had
secured, she might more readily consent to a
life’s artnership with him."

“ 0 will be a fortunate man who gets that
consent from her.”

“You are right there, hombre. Though she
is my cousin, I can truly say I don’t know a finer
woman in all Mexico—exec t one.”

I did; although she I had in my mind was not
the same he was thinking of.

“Who that one is,” he continued, “I needn’t
make any secret, after what you must have seen

to-day. I may as well make a clean breast of
it, and tell on that my other cousin and I are
engaged. , hands off there, caballero!” he

concluded, laughingly.

“ You need have no fear. After what I did
see to—day, as you’ve rightly conjectured, there’s
no man in Mexico—for that matter, in all the
world—who would have the slightest chance
with Doi'ia Marianita Covarubio, save Don Ra-
fael Moreno.”

“ Bravo! Cleverly put, and thank you. But
though of In two cousins I think her the hand-
somer, you on’t, and I know it.”

“Indeed!”

“ Yes; spite of what you said this day. For
it don’t correspond with an opinion that I’ve
heard you express before.”

This was true enough, though how he had
heard it I could not imagine. I remembered
having said to some of my brother officers——
when speaking of the affair in the theater—that
of the two ladies in the box the taller one was
by far the best-looking. I thought the same
still. But it Would not do to tell him so; hence
my having said the opposite when questioned at
an earlier hour. Under the circumstances the
flb was excusable.

“Possibly I might,” was my answer; “but,
as you’re aware I had not then a fair opportu-
nity of udging between them.”

‘ An now that you have, your opinion re-
mains unchanged. Come, amigo mic; confess
r it!’

This was all ver embarrassing, and I would

ladly have broug t our dialogue to an end;

t, for some reason I could not divine, he
seemed desirous of continuing it.

“I cannot confess an 'thing of the kind,” I
laid evasively; “it mig tn’t be true if I did.”

“But it might, and I trust is. My cousin I -
nacia is very fond of being admired —hcr on
fault; and asshe’s the elder, and deems horse f
mistress of the mansion—by the way ’twas she
who authorized me to invite you—I’d like to
flatter her vanity a little, by telling her she’s
your preference. It’s alwa s fun for me.”

“But I thought you sai the other was the

uette?”

‘ Ah! that was jest. If she were—well, I
needn’t so. . But I see you don’t care to speak
your 0 in on of Ignacla one way or the other’;
and I nk I know the reason. I’ve seen some
one, a very beautiful creature, movin about
among the people, and some one else fo lowing
her with his eyes all the afternoon, with eyes
for nobody else. Ha! ha! ha!”

“Come, Captain Moreno! I beg you’ll not

 

jest any more about that. It’s all a fancy of
yours.”

“A fancy of yours, rather. Be it so, amigo,
and have your own way. I wanted it other-
wise. But I see the old roverb is against me—
‘One man may take a orse to the water, but
twent can’t make him drink.’ ”

At hat moment, to my great relief
Covarubio, the male cousin, came hastin u ) to
say that the dancing was soon to begin, and on
Rafael, who was one of the ball stewards, was
wanted in the canopy outside to direct certain
preliminaries.

“ You’ll find me on the floor,” he said, hurry-
ing away, “ where I shall be hap y to introduce

on to as many partners as on p ease. Though,
if I mistake not,” he addei , again smiling sig—
nificantly, “ ou won’t care for more than one
throughout a l the dance. Haste. lucgo I”

At which be rushed off, leaving me much food
for reflection.

CHAPTER XXIII.
WALTZING Wire A svnra.

I REMAINle but a few minutes longer in the
said de comer, only while drinking a glass of
wine one of the mozqs had poured out for me.
During the time, however my thoughts were
busy, dwelling on the dialogue just closed.
Strange it was, and I scarce knew what to think
of it. It seemed clear enough "that Ca tain Mo—
reno wished me to become one of the ainily; he
had almost said as much. But why? That was
the unintelligible. For, while feelin flattered
by his wish, I failed to understan his mo-

tive.

After all, it possibly meant nothing further
than simply friendship for me; this be ween us,
as I have already said, having grown to a
warmth beyond common; partly from a con-
geniality in our tastes and dispositions, partly
mutual esteem, and it mi ht be something from
the odd incident on whic it was first founded.
0r his whole discourse may have been meant
on as a bit of banter—a sort of thing in which
he requently indulged.

Whatever the object, I could not com rehend,
nor (lid I reflect further on it then. T ere was
something else to occupy me; and emptying my
glass I hastened outside.

There everything seemed different, as by the
change of scene in a theater. The lamps had
been lit, and the gr at canopy was ablaze; the
5 nice underneath covered with groups of

gures, movin to and fro. The dancing had
not yet begun' ut the twangiin of the harp and
guitar, with the tunin of d les, told it soon
would. In fact, the oor only waited for the
ladies of the élite. I

Presently these came, streaming out of the
house in grand toilette; partners got paired;
figures were formed; the music struck u ; and
away went every one in surrender to t e de-
li hts of Terpsichore.

here is perha no count on earth, where
class is separa from class y a slighter and
less offensive barrier, than in this same Mexico.
Even in the sister Republic of the United
States there still lingers a certain cmclusivism,
marking man degrees in the social scale—a
heritage left t em by that grand dame, Mother
England—which they have not got rid of after
a century of democratic training! All that has
been long since shaken of]? b the more volatile
Mexicans—as by peoplein ot erS iiish-Ameri-
can States—where you may see t e cattle-herd,
or muleteer, dancing with the daughter of the
haciendzub; the proletarian of lowest grade side
by side with his employer, smoking, drinking,
and if not seated at the same dinner-table, cer-
tainly either seated or leaning over the same
balm-covered board, where dice are being rat-
tled, or cards dealt. In the cockpit, and at the
monté table, all Mexicans are on an equality, as
likewise in their public balls, known as fundam-
got-s.

Forewamed of this by re ated experiences, I
was not surprised to find t at the crowd under
the canopy was composed of eople belonging to
all classes, and both sexes 0 course. No more,
when several rancheros—the grandest gentlemen
there if only dress were considered—approached
the satin-clad and bejeweled ladies, With an air
of the most perfect easiness, and begged the
pleasure of having them for partners. More
awkward I, when after searching around for
the Indian girl—beauty like hers was not diffi-
cult to find—I bowed to her, and said:

“ Senorita, do you remember me?”

Her glance gratified me, still more her speech
in reijgimler.

“ member you, caballero? What a ques-
tion! Au Dias. I do, and ever will.”

“’Tis kind of you to say so. I feel flattered
that on have not forgotten me.”

“ ow could 1, seller? You who saved me
from insult. But for you—”

“ Pray don’t agilim speak of such a trifle. I’m
only sorry it has indered you from coming, as
you #sed, to the city. But perhaps you on’t
care

I put the question inquisitorial] y, scanning her
face for the answer.

“Indeed I (lo—care very much. It’s so dull
and lonely at home, sometimes.”'

 

young :

 

“ What! With that pretty parrot to talk to
you— our namesake!”

She aughed, answering:

“ Lorita is but poor company.”

“In that we differ. I only wish I had such
company; and could keep it all my life.”

She looked in my face, half inquiringly, half
in wonder.

“ If you care so much for it, sei‘ior, you may
have it. Brother will take it you, the next time
he goes to market.” ‘

. “ Afh, sei'iorita; it isn’t the parrot I was speak-
in o .

‘he look of wonder still lingered in her eyes,
but now more interro ation.

“Not the parrot! hat then?”

I had it on my tongue to say “Its mistress ”
or “ Its namesake ” but forbore. Our friendship
was not old enough for such familiarity as that
and it might be mistaken for rudeness. Please
was I to think it might; but I had committed
myself, and must make answer of some kind.
So I stammered out: ‘

“Never mind, I won’t tell you now. When
we meet again——but~” I paused at thought of
the unlikelihood of our ever meeting again,
which came like a black curtain between us.
“Surely you will not always stay away from
the city?’

“I hope not always. I so much wish to go
again, and see what I saw last time—those
brave soldiers of ours, on their great big

horses, wheelin an turning all together. Oh!
’twas a grand, utiful sight!”
“I’m glad it gratified you. I hope you’ll

come to witness it a in—many a time.”

“I should so like, if father would allow. But
then, those Red Hats—”

She stopped abru tly, lookin
darkness, and I co (1 see somet '
upon her face.

“What is it?” I asked.

“ A man who looked so like him.”

“ Like whom l”

“The Red Hat; the same who chased us on
the canal. ”

“ Where did you see him?”

“ He was standing just there ;” she pointed to
one of the supporting posts of the canopy,
draped with evergreens. “But he’s gone away
now.

“ Had he the red band upon his hat?”

“ No, senor. It was his face, I thought, I
knew. As my brother told you, we’ve seen him
several times, but not always dressed the same
way. And now he’s in a different dress, if it be
that man. But I hope it isn’t.”

“And I hope it is. Will you pardon me for
leaving you, a little unceremoniously?”

She ooked surprised at my wishing to with-
draw, but answered:

-“ Si senor!”

“ With your pgmission I will seek you again,
and ask you to my partner for a dance.’

Granted; and, turning my back upon her, I
walked off.

It was a good half-hour before I rejoined her,
all the interval occupied in threading my wa
through the crowd, under the canopy and ou
side it, lookin on ever side, gazing in the face
of every man met— to no Among

ling that

out into the
g like fear

them I could see none resem of the
fSefifir D?on Hilar' i0. Need I say I was searchin' g
. or im

She must have been mistaken. After what
had happened her, it was natural she should
have fears and fancies about the man. This
was one of the last. So ncluding, I gave up
the search, and hastened return to her.

I had meanwhile observed that she was danc-
ing and with more than one partner. Having
El Guapo in my thoughts, I did not stop to note
who they were. Only once for a moment, to
watch her movements, and watching to admire
them; for it meant the same. There was no
dancer there who in grace could com )are with
her. A ve Bayadere seemed La be! a!

When I a length secured her for a waltz, I
had no fear of mly partner dragging me down
upon the floor. t was not the dew: temps of
the figment da , with its ludicrous jumping and
jigg ‘ g but t 19 circular of years ago, that pro-
nounced by Byron as the.“ poetry of motion "—
at the time in.vogue in Mexico as most other
parts of the Western world. I had not gone
ialf round the ring with her, before discovering
that I held in my arms a very sylph; so light
and‘fagileh her movleaments,,so smoohi‘gh and ser-
pen me er undu tions, twas ' i '
about with Cerito or Taglioni! 8p mung

When the music dropped, and the waltz came
to an end, she took my offered arm, and we
wandered forth into the night. I cared not for
what “society,” with its tongue of slander,
might say then. It was too late now for me to
think of that; and I would have walked with
her up and down under the glaring lights, not
defiantly, but with perfect indifference as to
what those looking on might think of it—even.
though they believed us to be betrothed.

And soon after we were so. It was for this
purpose we had separated from the crowd; the
one telling the other, not in words, but by some
mute impulse, stirring both at the same time,
that we wanted to be alone. ‘

Alone stood we in the moonlkht—away from

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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the noisy throng-beyond reach of listening
ears or spying eyes—with the chaste moon an
the pure snows of Popocatepec and the White
Woman as our witnesses; and there, on that
Christmas Eve, exchan ed sweet words, with a
promise never to be bro en.

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE CENA.

IT was yet but an early hour when the bailfi
was brought to a close. As a rule the Mexicans
are not given to night carousing. From the
mild nature of their climate, sicmpre—verano,
most of their merry-making is done out of doors
and by daylight, of which they have enough.
This night, however, being “ Noche Buena,” the
dancing ended earlier for there was the grand
su per to come, and then, at midnight, the misa
deligallo, or “ cook’s mass,” so called from the
days when clocks were unknown, and the crow-
ing of Chanticleer was relied on for the hour of
commencin the ceremony.

Most of t e outside people went home to eat
the cena in their own houses, such as were of
the immediate neighborhood intendin to return
to the midnight mass in the chapel o the haci-
enda. In Mexico, where every one, women as
well as men, goes on horseback, and usually at
a gallop, a few miles or leagues are not consid-
ered distance.

Only the invited guests of the house reen-
tered it for the supper—enough, however, to fill
the great dining-room, where tables were set
in every available space.

I did not enter with the first crush, but a few
minutes after; delayed outside by a scene of ten-
der parting. For Lorita and her brother were
going home to their water dwelling, to return
no more that night. Their way was through
San Isidro, distant about half a league; thence
along the acaloté, which Crittcnden and I had
traversed going back to the city.

It was onl to come to an understanding,
when and w ere we should again meet. Then
hands clasped, lips in contact, reluctant to speak
Adios—which, however, had to be spoken-and
we parted; she gliding on after the brother who
had gone ahead, I turning back to join the gay
throng around the supper tables.

A splendid “ cena ” it was, with every luxm'y
obtainable in the Valley of Mexico, where most
of the delectable dishes can be had; game in
rare variety, fruits alike of the tropic and tem-
perate zones—fresh )liicked at that—with the
wines of both wor ds, and crystallized snow
from the near sierrafi flaggidas t}? cool tiriggd 
merr rt as we ; ey w 0 com 1
vei'yz’iiiiilkegeo 1e, who in another hour would
be kneeling on t a hard flags of a church floor,
devout] y repeating paternostersl For now they
had reached the climax of the day’s en 'oyment,
and the spirit of misrule reigned, hristmas
crackers going off like pistol-shots, amid sallies
of wit and peals of laughter.

And yet I, who should have been gayest
of the y; I who had just received a confes-
sion—t e surrender of a woman’s heart, that
one I most wished to have filed hold—I was lgot
ha i There was a weig upon my i ts,
 neither the hilarit around, nor 31 the
wine I was drinking, coul remove.

Communing with myself, I tried to discover
what was causing it, but failed. It had naught
to do with the little unpleasantness betweenm -
self and the Doha Ignacia; thou h on her si e
that still remained, as I could te by her almost
studied avoidance of me, ever since our encoun-
ter in the afternoon. 0n mine, it was no more
thought of ; or, at all events, not with sufficient-
seriousness to account for the gloom which was
now holding me in its grasp, with the tenacity
of a nightmare. _

And what would account for it? For a long
time I could not think, nor even form a conjec-
ture; onlyotgiat it seemed, in some way or oth-
er, a fore ing of evil. At len h, however, it
began to take shape and ugly t at shape was.
During the hour 0 bliss, after that sweet waltz,
I thou ht not of the circumstances preceding it,
and what my partner had been saying, in the
belief she saw the rufflan who insulted her. The
whole incident was for the time quite out of my
mind. But it came back into it now, with a
vividness ainfully clear, almost causing me to
crv out. ;This was the dark cloud hitherto be-
low the horizon, now ominously overhead. She,
my betrothed, was in danger! So believed I,
too truly; for, as if to confirm the in the be
1in at that very instant came a singular coinci-
(Ii'n’co. As the ladies had retired toarray them-
selves in cmtumes more becoming the reli 'ous
ceremony about to take place, Crittendeu, ith-
erto engaged elsewhere, made his Way *0 Where
I sat, and took seat besnde me, 300“ 83 on his
chair saying:

“ By the way, old fellow did you see any one
today that you reco as an old acquaint-
ance? 4 ,

I was rather annoyed by the interrogatory.
thinking it referred to the chinam m» and thlt
he meant chafing me—for who I was in no
humor just then. But, as the best way Would
be to meet him in his own vein, I rejomed, With—

tshowin rancor: ,
ou“Of couigse 1 did. And if
been blinded by a blaze of

 

 

our eyes hadn’t .
uty elsewhere,

1 Red

 

you’d have seen that I not only met an old ac-
quaintance, but danced with her.”

“ 0h! you’re'speaking of the Indian girl.”

“ And who are you speakin of?” I asked, the
frown which his first question ad brought over
my face, quick assing away from it.

“That SCOllnl relly greaser who gave us the
slip—the boatinan who left us boatless on the
chinampa.”

“Great heavens!” I exclaimed, with a start.
“ Have you seen him, Crittenden? I mean here
to—(ln y L"

“Him, or his ghost. Though if it Were the
ghost, it displays a better taste in dress than the
embodied individual itself. The man I saw was
no longer in rags, but got up regardless of ex-
pense, in a suit of blue velveteen, buttoned all
over and swinging the. best sort of scrape. over
his shoulder. For all I’m quite certain ’twas our
quondam boatman.”

“But why didn’t 'ou lay hands on him? Or
come and tell me? Ve have good reasons for
arresting the rascal. For that matter, hanging
or shooting him on the spot. What hindered

ou?”

“ Not the want of will, I can assure you; but
the lack of opportunity. At first I couldn’t real-
ize the fact of its being he; and when, after a
little reflection, I felt sure of it, ’twas too late.
I looked all over the ground, taking your ser-
geant and the bugler with me, but could see
nothing more of the blue velveteens. So I sup-
pose he must have seen that I had recognized

im, and given La Soledud leg—bail.”

The presentiment hitherto op ressing me was
a presentiment no more. It ad changed to
keen, active apprehension. If.it was the pelado
Crittenden saw, and he seemed quite sure of it
then El Guapo must have been there also, for
had long since come to the conclusion that the
two scoundrels were coadjutors—both saltea—
dores belonging to the same band.

And where were both now? Where La Bella?
Had she got safe home?

A cold shiver ran through me, as in uick suc-
cession I asked these questions of myse f. But a
second, and yet stranger, coincidence was com-
ing, and near at hand. As I was telling Crit—
tenden what had occurred about the other sus-
picious character—whom he but knew b re-
pute—a noise in the courtyard outside inter—
rupted our dialogue. There were several voices
speakin excited y; then the dining-room door
was pus ied open, and an Indian youth rushed
into the room, panting as if pursued!

“The brother of La Chinampera Bella!” I
heard several exclaim as I sprung to my feet,
and advanced to meet 'm.

“ What is it?” I asked.

A uestion almost superfluous, for I anticipa-
ted t 6 answer. He gave itugasgingB:

l“M "sister! She’s carri o l '03 de mi
a ma

 

CHAPTER XXV.
wniou WAY?

“ YOUR sister carried off ! By whom i”

Another question equally superfluous. I
could we named the men, or if not could have
descri them.

“ Robbers,”returncd the youth; “ salteadores,
I know, for they had horses and arms. Several
there were, and, Senor Capitan,” he continued,
reco nizin me, “one you know yourself—the
Bed at; e that came after us on the canal!”

I stayed to hear no more, but rushing out of
the room, Crittenden with me, out for the
bu ler, shouting at the highest pitch of my
vo ce. Luckily he had not gone to bed, but
with two or three of his comrades was hangin
around the cat-ind, doing a little flirtation wit
the damsels of that quarter on their ownac-

count.

“ ‘Boots and saddles,’ buglerl Be quick!”

The men looked amazed, less from the unex-
pecred order than seeing me so excited. But
all rushed for the stables, he of the trumpet soon
letting us hear its tone, the “Boots and sad-
dles ” ringing clear around the walls of the ha—
cienda.

While the horses were bein caparisoned, I
further questioned the young ndian, drawing
from him all the information he was able to
give. He and his sister had passed San Isidro,
and were getting into their skiff—which they
had left at a lan ing in the acaloté beyond; he
was already in, the girl just ste ping ovor the
gunwale, when two men ll( ing out from
among the bushes, 1 'd hol o and dragged her
back. Then raising her in their arms, they
bore her of! tween them.

“ She struggled and cried out?”

“ She struggled, senor; but only one cry. She
could not say more; the ladrones threw a serapé
over her head—that hindered her voice.”

“ And what did on do?”

“I shouted lou as I could, senor. Then I
gun out of the boat and ran after them.

ut fore I could get up they were joined by a
fiat many others, all on horseback, and they

two horses with only the saddles upon them.
On one of them they ~et my sister—pobrecita!
Then he who had her in his arms mounted be-
hind and the all gallopcd ofl'.”
“  id you know one of them was the

 

“ Because I saw his face, senor. I was close up
before they got quite, away, and the moon was
on it. He wasn t either of the two that first
took her ofl‘, but one of the others who met
them. He was leading all, and giving direc-
tions. Oh, yes! I’m sure it was he, senor; I’ve
seen him so often, and so had sister. She thougl It
he was near her this night when they were danc—
ing. She. was 'us't telling me about it as we
were going bac to our boat, and it made Us
afraid. Gone away with that man! A 0 dc mi .’
\Vhat will he do to her!

His distress seemed great, but it was nothing
to mine. His speech was driving ‘me mad, and
it relieved me to hear the tramping of hoofs on
the pavement outside, with the clink of steel
scab iards. The men of my escort were ready
for the road.

In a trice we were in our saddles, Crittendcn
of course along, and also Moreno. The Mexican
officer wouid not stay behind; instead, seemed
rather pleased at being called upon once more to
do duty. An ardent soldier, he had felt it irk-
some to have his sword so long rusting in the
sheath. Something more than his sword I
wanted now—his guidance; for without that our
pursuit would have been but a game of blind
man’s buff. -

And he was just the right man in the right
place. He had acguaiutance with-every route
and road in the val ey of Mexico, and the moun-
tains surrounding it. But, what was more to
our purpose, be new all about El Guapo, and
where t at ga Lothario made his home when

laying the M e of robber—a knowledge he had
ate ained from Colonel Espinosa. And just
that now wanted to possess, for I had deter-
mined on tracking the abductor to his den, if I
should there have to lay down my life.

In our saddles the uestion came u , “Which
way?” of course ask of Moreno. t r uired
him to reflect before answering it. San sidro
was near the lake‘s edge; La Soledad bein be-
tween this and the Great National lioa , by
which we had traveled way, coming to the
hacienda. Espinosa said that the robber had
his head—quarters somewhere near the. Pyramids
of San Juan de Teotihuacan. The direct route
to this last place from San Isidro was by La
Soledad. But there was another road which
could be taken; roundabout, by reason of an
isolated cerro—one of the little volcanoesspokcn
of—which diverted it, so increasing the distance
by miles.

With such spoil as he had just captured, the
bandit would make back for his lair—we felt
sure of that. Our uncertainty was as to which
of the two roads he had taken. But we were
not long in doubt. As it chanced one of my es—
cort was an old plainsman, of course a skilled
tracker; and, soon as we had ridden out to the
road leading past the hacienda, at some three or
four hundred yards’ distance from it, I directed
him to dismount, and examine the tracks.

Flinging himself out of his saddle, he stooped
down and commenced scrutinizing the ground.
Luckily there was moonlight in his favor, which
made it easier.

“ Plenty 0’ boss-tracks hyar, capt’n; but all
goin’ torst the Vera Cruz road. It’s the people
as hev been to the gatherin’.”

“ Go back a little the other way, toward the
lake. See what’s there.”

He did as directed, walking off a score of
yards or so beyond the gate of the hacienda
avenue; then bent his body, with eyes to the
ground as before.

“ Well: any gone that wgy?”

“Yes, capt n, a dozen or iarabout: but only
two as seem at all fresh. The rest must ’a’ pass—
ed along afore sun-up 0’ this mornin'.”

“ Do you see any from the lake—coming this
way ?”

" Neery one; all hev goed torst it."

“ Back to your saddle!”

“That’s to our advantage,” observed the
Mexican officer, as we turned our horses’ heads
toward the Vera Cruz road. “To make San
Juan of the Pyramids, they must cross the Cu-
mine Nacioml, at the vi lage of Los Reyes.
We strike it at Tlapisahua, and then on to Los
Reyes. IVe’ve a good twent ' minutes of time
in our favor: and ifwe ma '9 good speed we
may yet overtake and perhaps intercept them,
before—”

“ Forward! Full gallop!” I shouted out, with-
out waiting for him to finish ; and forward went
we, fast as spurs could make our horses go. The
moonlight gave us every opportunity, making
the white, dusty track conspicuous, sotliatthem
was no need to draw bridle for an instant. And
we drew it not, till we had reached the main
road for Mexico. Nor even then: for turning
toward the city, we dashed through Tlapisahua
at charging speed, the clatter of our horsis’
boots waking up the people of the place, who had
long before gone to bed.

In the same way we rode through Los Ri'vcs,
but not to arouse the sleepers there. ’I‘ icir
slumbers had been already disturbed by the
trampling of a troop whic had preceded us;
and as we gallopod between the two rows of
adobfi dwellings, we could here and there He
faces in the windows, with eyes looking out,
half—curious, Iialfifrighteued.

About a mile beyond Los Reyes—going city-

2O

 

 

 

ward, as we were—the road for the town of Tez-  stretched between us and them, was shortened
: to a quarter, and rapidly getting less. Another

coc0, which is the same for San Juan de Teoti-
huacan, turns abruptly to the right, thence
tending northward along the edge of the great
salt lake—Tezcoco itself. We did not yet know
whether the party we were in pursuit of was
ahead of us or not, and Were making for the
junction of the two roads to get this assur-
ance.

But we 0t it before reaching that point. As I
we passef out of the little pm'bl'im, the old ‘
plainsman, who was riding by my side, a length l
or two ahead of the others, looking down upon
the dust ' road said quietly:

“ Fres tracks hyar, capt’n. Ten or a dozen
bosses hev 'cst been rid ’long this road; goin’ at
a consid’ra le smart ace, too.”

Scarce had he finished speaking, when the

truth of his words was confirmed, and by ocular .

evidence. As we were about rounding an angle
of the road—which would bring us clear of some
bushes, hitherto hindering our view—we saw a
dark clum in the middle of the causeway less
than a. hal -mile ahead, and moving, as could be
told by some metallic points that sparkled in
the moonlight.

“The salteadores, or cicrto!” muttered Mo—
reno, as he spurre up by my side. “See!
they’re leaving the main road—turning off for
Tezcoco.”

This was true; the black mass hitherto of
small dimensions, had commenced lengthening
out, in echelon to the right, and kept on till we
counted six complete files. For the robbers were
marching information “by twos.” Evidently
they had not yet seen us; for they were going
at a walk, as if they had no fear or thought < f

n being pursued. They could not well have heard
us; since for a mile or more back the causewa
was thickly covered with dust, which had dea -
ened the hoof-strokes of our horses.

Soon as sighting them, Iliad drawn up, giving
back the command “ Halt!” in a half-whisper.
I only stopped to take their measure, and de-
termlne the best course of action. There they
were new, full before our eyes, as they a -
vanced along the right-hand road, lanees at
rest, the blades of which we could see gleaming
and glistening. In all about a dozen of them,
not SO many as of ourselves. But had there been
ten times the number I should have continued
the ursuit and I knew there .was not a man at
my ack who would have failed to follow me.

Our halt was but for a few seconds, the Mex-
ican officer saying:

“ N ow’s our time to get up with them. They’re
on a road where, for the next three lea Ies,
 isn’t break or bush a rat could hide itself

"Full gallo again!” Icalled back to the es-
cort; and at t at gait we again went on.

CHAPTER XXVI.
CONCLUDES WITH A CHRISTMAS SUPPER.

E made no attempt further to conceal our-
selves from the party pursued. In the bright
moonlight that was plainly impossible; and soon
as we had cleared t ic scrub. they saw us. We
could tell it by their suddenly breaking into a

allop, in a bad scare, as was evident b the
ne of their ejaculations, which We coul dis-
tinctly hear.

We stayed not to look or listen, but rode
earnestly on; soon ourselves turning into the
Tremooo road, where we had them right in front
0 us.

Henceforth it would be a simple question of
speed between horses and horses; but I had no

oubt about the result. The men of our escort
were the pick of my troop. all splendidly mount-
ed; and it was not the first opportunity that
had fallen to us to make trial of the American
horse a ainst the Mexican mustang. We had
chased ioth salteadores and guerilleros before,
and knew that the little native steed, although

ame, and bottom to the backbone, is no match
in heels for his lar er and longer-striding con-
gener. But if not oubtin our ability to over-
take the horsemen pursue , I had fears of some-
thing that mi.,ht .occur when they were over-
taken. I had card of these Mexican highway-
me when brought to bay, and under the be-
lief eath was to dealt out to them, refusing
to surrender, dying desperately, but first killing
their ca tives! More than once had I seen re-
corded, he case of a beautiful girl having a
maeheté thrust through her, just as father,
brother, or lover had reached the spot, and been
upon the int of effecting her rescue! What if
such shou d be the fate of her—my betrothed?

I was in a very agony of suspense—of keen
apprehension. But, perha fortunately, I had
no time to dwell u n it. n ten minutes more
it would all be dec1ded, for life or for death.

We could see the pursued making every effort
to escape us, the pennons of their lances waving
about as they struck the shafts against the sides
of their horses, urging the animals on. Ours
were at their best speed. breathing hard, as they

ressed forward, tossing the foam from their
ips in flakes that came cloutin back in our
faces. We in the saddles silent a! —not a word
now passing among us—no sound save the clat-
tering of boots—and the clinking of empty
scabbards—our sabers now drawn.

Soon the half-mile of White track—that

 

3' back to my

 

Beadle’s Dime Library.

dash would do it.

“ Cut every one down who resists!” I shouted
men. “ But be careful you don’t
harm the girl; for heaven’s sake—for mine I”

I think most of them understood the nature of
the a ) )eal, which, far as they could, I knew
wouh Insure her safety. Whether or not, they
were the last words spoken till the muzzles of
our horses were almost touching the tails of the
rearmost mustangs. Then other words were ut-
tered, but not on our side. They came from the
bandits. No warlike shout, nor battle-cry to
begin the conflict. Instead, the cowardly ex-

_ claim:

“Nos rendnmos I” (We surrender !)

Never were men more astonished than we at
hearing it, at the same time seeing the robbers,
who had rcincd up, fling their lances down up-
on the road, piteously appealing to us to spare
their lives!

Only two ofl‘ered resistance as we first dashed
in among them; these in obedience to the order
I had given—too late to be recalled—bein in-
stant] sabercd in their saddles, out of w ieh
they ropped dead.

Fortunately, the man who carried the captive
was not one of them. Seeing that I command-
ed, he came riding up to me—the girl on the
saddle before him, with the .serapé still over her
head, and corded around her arms.

“Senor General!” he said, “I deliver up my
charge to you, and glad I am to get rid of it.
Caramba! I should never have undertaken
such an uncon enial duty but for our chief, who
would have ki led me had I disobeyed him. Eh
him!” he added, turning his eyes upon one of
the two who had been sabered ; “ that’s something
to be thankfuI‘f'or. El Guapo will give me no
Inore of his disagreeable orders.”

I heard the words, but without heeding or
thinking of them; my thoughts being occupied,
as my arms, in releasing the ca tive from her
uncomfortable situation. The ndit lent his
aid with every demonstration of alacrity. When
the muflling was at length removed from her
head, and the moonbcams fell upon her face, I
gazed at it, first anxiously, then with joy un-
speakable. Her long black hair was down, and

ishevelcd; the face it shadowed pale; but the
eyes were bright and beautiful as ever—radiant
of life as of li ht—givin r me the assurance that
no harm had appened her.

A wild glance, wondering and interrogative,
Elli-ck followed by one of recognition, and she

I) herself on my breast, crying out:

“’ is you, amanfe min ! Saved! I am saved!"

“Yes, Low-it“ queridal And you need never
more fear the man who meant you harm. He
is there.”

I pointed to the dead body of the bandit, lying
near with face upturned to the moon’s light.
handsome face it was, even with the angry
scowl, which must have been on it as he breath-
ed his last.

She gave it but a glance, then shuddering and
clinging closer to me, cried out:

“ Take me away! Oh, take me away!”

I was leading her off the ground, When Crit-
tenden and Captain Moreno came up—tlie latter
with a peculiar expression on his face. After
congratulating the chinam iera on her escape,
he turned to me with a laugh, saying:

“Caballero! I owe you a supper for six;
which debt I shall be most ha py to dischar e
on ‘to-morrow, Christmas ni lit, at the Fon a
de Espiritu Santo—if that wifi suit your conve-
nience.”

.I stared at the man in astonishment, wonder-
ing what in the world he could mean. Such a
pro ..al at such time and place!

“ do not comprehend you, Captain Moreno."

“ Possibly you will, after looking at this. ”

He stretched forth his hand, on the palm of
which I saw something round, glittering in the
moonlight. It was a ld watch.

“That’s the rclqja,’ he said, “of which by
your untimcl interference the pelado de iled
me. One of iosada’s best, as you see; ant , as I
told you, cost me twenty doubloons. So you
can’t say I was exacting, when I put you to the
expense of a supper for six.”
in“, But how—w ere—when have you recovered

“Ah! I’d almost forgotten that. Just now;
and from the thief himself! There he lies, not
likely to fllch from any more fobs in this world
——whatever he ma do in the next. Mira !”

I looked at who. he was pointin to. It was
the dead body of the other rob r who had
fallen—he too lying on his back. Soon as see-
ing his face, I recognized it—as Crittenden had
already done—the boatman who had betrayed
us!

And new, recalling his speech, about a ser-
vice I had rendered worth many hundreds of
dollars, and comparing this with the rice of
Captain Moreno’s watc i, I at length un erstood
what he meant by his mock gratitude. Footr
pad, boatman and bandit were all one and the
same man!

 

So rapid had been our pursuit of the robbers,
so abru t its termination, we were back at La
Soledai in time for the midnight mass. In

 

which I took no (part; thou h the lieutenant of
dragoons did. f m self, only halted at the
haCIenda to pick up t e brother of my betroth-
ed who had remained there in the interim.

I‘Iaving accompanied them to San Isidro, and
seen both safe into their boat—safe enough now
—I galloped back to La Soledad, arrivmg too
late to bid “ buenas noches ” to the ladies of the
house. They were both abed; Dofia Ignacia, if
asleep, possi )ly dreaming about a man in blue
uniform frock, with yellow facings, whose low
tastes and predilections—in the matter of wo-
mankind—made him in her eyes a very monster
of iniquit . , ‘

Somewhat in fear of her frowns on the follow-
ing morning, I took the recaution to avoid
them by leaving La Soledat , soon as there was
sunlight. Fortunate! , I could plead plausible
excuse for this early (Biparture—dnty. The sal-
teadores we had captured, required taking on to
the city, to be lodged in the Grand Jail of the
Acordudu. So, deputing Captain Moreno to
speak my “Adios” to his cousins—the uncle saw
me into the saddle—I was off long before the
hour of almuerzo. Of course, Crittcnden went
with me, though not without some coaxing. He
would have preferred staying to breakfast.

But if on that Christmas Day we did not
eat our morning meal in the company of Cap-
tain Moreno, nor yet dinner, we sup with
him—as he had giggposed, at the Espiri Santo.
The same six as ore, with a seventh, Critten-
den himself, added to the party. All, it may be,
even merrier than at our first meeting; I, m -
self, certainly so. For, on this ni ht over t 10
sup r table, there was nothin sai , nor insinu-
a to vex or sadden me. 0t even by Cole-
nel Espinosa; who, possibl , had heard from his
friend Moreno, that one ay I might have, for
wedded wife, her he had unwittingly aspersed:

THE QUEEN OF THE LAKES.
THE END.

‘

Beadle’s Dime Library.

1 A HARD CROWD. By Philip S. Warne.... . . . . ..

 

 

2 Tea DARE-DEVIL. By Col. P. Ingraham , . . . .. 10a

3 Krr CARSON, JR. By Buckskin Sam . . . . . . . . .. 10c.

4 'I‘na KIDNAI’PER. By l’hili' S. Warne . . . . . . .. 10c.

5 THE FIRE FIEan. ly A. . Morris. Jr . . . . . .. 100.

6 WILDCAT Boa. By Edward L. Wheeler . . . . .. 10c.
7‘ DEATH-NOTCH, Tm: Dss'rRovnn. 01! Coomes. 100.
8 Tim HEAnLnss HousnMAN. By Mayne Reid... 100.
9 HANDY ANDY. By Samuel Lover . . .. . 100.
10 VIDOCQ, THE FRENCH POLicnb‘rv. By himself 100.
11 MIDSHIPMAN EASY. By Capt. Maryatt   100.
12 THE DEATH-SHOT. B CAPT. Mayne Reid . .. 100.
13 PATIIAWAY. By Dr. .H. Robinson.  10c.

THAYENDANEGEA, THE SCOURGE. Ned Buntline
Tm: TIoan SLAy ER. 13% Gustave Aimard. . ..

Tun Wnrrii: WIZARD. y Ned Buntliue . . . . ...
Nion'rsnADn. By Dr. J. H. Robinson . . . . . . ..
18 Tim SEA BANDIT. By Ned Buntline . . . . . . . ..

19 RED CEDAR. By Gustave Aimard . . . . . . . . . ., 100.
20 Tina: BANDir Ar BAY.‘ By Gustave Almard. ,. 10c.
21 Tim TRArpnit‘s DAI'GnTEn. Gustave Aimard 10c.
22 WnI'rI-ILAW' By Dr. J. H. Robinson . . . . . . .. 10c.
‘33 'l‘IIs RED WARRIOR. By Ned Buntline . . . . .. We.
21 'J‘IIE PaAmm FLOWER. By Gustave Aimard. 10c.
:25 Tim GOLD Gums. By Francis Johnson.  .. 10c.
26 THE DEATH TRACK. By Francis Johnson  10c.
2.” THE Smrrrna Darwriva. By Albert W.Aiken. 10c.
:8 THREE-FINGERED JACK. J oseph E. Badger, Jr 10c.
:. Tiena DICK, Tm: FAiw KING. P. S. Warne 10c.
30 GosPIcL GEORGE. By Josth E. Bad er. Jr 10c.
:51 ’l‘m-; New Yonx SHARP. lyalbert .Aiken. 10c.
32 H'novs or YALE. By John D. Vose .  . 100.
:21 ()vsnLAND Krr. Bv Albert W. Aiken...  10c.
3! lior-xr MorNrAIN Boa. By Albert W. Aiken. 10c.
3.") KnN'rI'cK, 'I‘nr. Scour. By AHH'I‘t W. Aiken 10c.
30 INJUN DICK. By Albert W. Aiken . . . . . . . . .. 100.
37 IIRL, rm: HUNcuuAcK. By Ji. H. Robinson. 10c.
38 VELVET HAND. By Albert W. Aiken. 100.
39 'l‘na RussIAN SPY. By Fredeer Whittaker. 10c.
«10 Tar. LONG HAIaaD ‘PAaDs.‘ J E B er,Jr. 10c.
41 GOLD DAN. By Albert W. Aiken. . . . . . . .. 10c.
2 Tim CALIFORNIA Ds'mc'riva. A. W. Aiken... 10c.
43 DAKOTA DAN. By 01! Coomes .  .. 10c.
4-! OLD DAN RACKBACK. By OllCoomes ..  10c.
45 OLD BIvLI.’s Era. Bv Jos. E. Badger, Jr.,... 10c.

46 BOWlE-KNIFE BEN. By 01] Coomes . . . . . . . .. 1

47 PACIFIC Para. Bv Jos. E. Badger, Jr......... 10c.
48 IDAno Ton. By 0!! Coomes. . . . . . . . . .. 10c.
49 Tm: WOLF DEMON. By Albert W. Aiken. . . .. 10c.
50 JACK RAnnrr. By Jos. E. Badger Jr .. 100.
51 Ben Ron, 'rmc BOY ROAD-AoaN'r. Oil Coomes. 10c.

0e.

.52 DEATH TRAILER. Bv Wm. F. Cody . . . . . . . . . .. l

as SILVER SAM. By Col. Delle Sara . . . . . . . . . . . .. 10c.
54 ALWAYS 0N HAND. By Philip S. Warne..... 10c.
55 Tim SCALP HIIN'rims. B Capt. Ma nc Reid . 10c.
56 TnnlNDIAN MAznprA. yA! ert .Aiken... 10c.
57 Tar. SILENT HUNTER. B Percy B. St. John.. 10c.
69 SILVER KNIFE; By Dr. . H. Robinson . . . . . .. 10c.
59 Tim MAN men TEXAS. Bv Albert W. Aiken 10c.
60 Wins AWAKE. By Frank umont . . . . . . . . . .. 100.
61 CAPTAIN SRAWAIF. B Ned Buntline . . . . . . . .. 100.
0'2 LOYAL HEART. By ustave Almard . . . . .. 10c.
68 Tim WINGED WnALa. Bv Albert W. Aiken... 10c

64 Douan Sion'r. By Jos. E. Badge
65 THE RID RAJAII. By Capt. Fred
66 THE SPFI‘TEB BARQIYE. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
07 Tm: BoY Jeoxmr. By Josep l E. Badger, Jr. 10c.
68 Tim FIGHTING TRAPPER. By J. F. 0. Adams 100.
09 THE IRISH CAPTAIN. B Capt. F. Whittaker 10c.
70 HYDBABAD. By Dr. J. i. minimum ,.  10c.
71 CAPTAIN Coot BLADE. By Jos. E. Bad ’er, Jr. 10c.
7‘2 Tar. PBANTOI HAND. By Albert W. iken . 10c.
73 Tan KNIGHT or THE RED Cnoss. By Dr. J.

H.Robinson . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .. ..  .. 10¢
Captain Maynemc

r r. 
Whittaker.
10c.

74 CAPITAIN or rm: Rms. By

Red. . . . . . . . . . . . . ..  .  .

75 GaN'rLinIAN Gsonea. By Albert W. Aiken.. 10c.
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