The first beams of day were beginning to tinge the sky with opaline tints at the moment when the two horsemen reached the garita of San Antonio. For some time past they had checked the rapid pace of their steeds, had taken off their masks, and re-established such order as they could in their clothes, which had been dirtied and damaged by the numerous incidents of their night's ride. At some paces from the garita they mixed themselves up with the groups of Indians proceeding to market, so that it was easy for them to enter the city unnoticed. Don Jaime proceeded straight to the house he inhabited in the calle de San Francisco, near the Plaza Mayor.

On reaching home, he dismissed López, who was literally falling asleep. In spite of the copious draughts which he had taken while his master was at the Palo Quemado, he gave him leave for the whole day, merely appointing a meeting with him the same evening, and then withdrew to his bedroom. This room was a real Spartan abode, the furniture, reduced to its simplest expression, only consisted of a wooden frame, covered with a cow hide, which served as a bed, an old saddle forming the pillow, and a black bearskin the coverlet; a table loaded with papers, and a few books, a stool, a trunk containing his clothes, and a rack filled with weapons of every description, knives, pistols, sabres, swords, daggers, machetes, guns, carbines, rifles, and revolves, completed with the horse trappings suspended from the walls, this singular furniture, to which we must add a washstand, placed behind a sarape hung up as a curtain in a corner of the room.

Don Jaime dressed his wounds, which he had carefully washed with salt and water, according to the Indian custom, then sat down at his table, and began inspecting the papers he had found such difficulty in seizing, and whose possession had nearly cost him his life. He soon was completely absorbed by the task, which seemed greatly to interest him. At length, at about ten o'clock a.m., he left his seat, folded up the papers, placed them in his portfolio, which he thrust into a pocket of this dolman, threw a sarape over his shoulders, put on a Vienna hat, with a large gold golilla, and left the house in this garb, which was as elegant as it was picturesque.

Don Jaime, it will be remembered, had given don Felipe his word of honour to be his residuary legatee. It was to fulfil this sacred promise that he went out. About six o'clock he returned home. His word was liberated. He had delivered to don Felipe's mother and sister the fortunes which a knife thrust had made them so promptly inherit. At the door of his house the adventurer found López, quite refreshed, who was awaiting him. The peon had prepared a modest dinner for his master.

"What news is there?" don Jaime asked him, as he sat down to talk, and began eating with good appetite.

"Not much, mi amo," he answered. "A captain, aide-de-camp to his Excellency the President, has called."

"Ah!" said don Jaime.

"The President wishes you to go to the palace, at eight o'clock, as he desires to see you."

"I will go. Well, what next? Have you heard nothing? Have you not been out?"

"Pardon me, mi amo, I went as usual to the barber's."

"And did you hear nothing there?"

"Only two things."

"Let me hear the first."

"The Juarists, it is said, are advancing by forced marches on the ciudad. They are only three days' journey distant—at least, so it is reported."

"The news is rather probable. The enemy must at this moment be concentrating his forces. What next?"

López burst into a laugh.

"Why are you laughing, animal?" don Jaime asked him.

"It is the second piece of news I heard that makes me laugh, mi amo."

"Is it very funny?"

"Well, you shall judge. It is said that one of the most formidable guerillero chiefs of Benito Juárez was found this morning killed by a knife in a room at the rancho of the Palo Quemado."

"Oh, oh!" said don Jaime, smiling in his turn, "And do they say how this unfortunate event occurred?"

"No one understands anything about it, mi amo. It would appear that the colonel—for he was a colonel—had pushed on as far as the Palo Quemado, while scouting, and resolved to spend the night there. Sentries were posted round the house, to watch over the safety of this chief, and no one entered the house, except two unknown horsemen. It was after their departure, when they had finished a long conversation with the colonel, that the latter was found dead in the room, from a stab which had passed through his heart. Hence it is supposed that a quarrel having broken out between the colonel and the two strangers, the latter killed him, but it was done so quietly that the soldiers, sleeping only a few yards off, heard nothing."

"This is, indeed, singular."

"It appears, mi amo, that this colonel, don Felipe Irzabal—such was his name—was a frightful tyrant, without faith or law, about whom numberless atrocities are reported."

"If that is the case, my dear López, everything is for the best, and we need not trouble ourselves any further about the scoundrel," don Jaime said as he rose.

"Oh! He will go to the deuce without us."

"That is probable, if he is not there already. I am going to take a walk about town till eight o'clock. At ten you will be at the palace gate, with two horses and weapons, in the case of our being compelled to take a ride by moonlight, like last night."

"Yes, mi amo, and I will wait till you come out, no matter at what hour."

"You will await, unless I send you a warning that I no longer require you."

"Good, mi amo, all right."

Don Jaime then went out as he had stated, took a short walk, but only under the portales of the Plaza Mayor, so that he might reach the palace exactly at the appointed hour. At eight o'clock precisely the adventurer presented himself at the palace gates. An usher was waiting to lead him to the President. General Miramón was walking, sad and pensive, up and down a small saloon adjoining his private apartments; on perceiving don Jaime, his face became more cheerful.

"You are welcome, my friend," he said affectionately offering him his hand; "I was impatient to see you, for you are the only man who understands me, and with whom I can talk frankly; stay, set down by my side, and let us talk, if you are willing."

"I find, you sorrowful, General; has anything annoying happened to you?"

"No, my friend, nothing; but you know that for a long time past I have not had much cause for gaiety, I have just left Madame Miramón, the poor woman is trembling, not for herself, dear and gentle creature, but for her children. She sees everything in dark colours, and foresees terrible disasters. She has been weeping, and that is why you find me sad."

"But why not, General, send Madame Miramón away from this city, which may be besieged any day?"

"I have proposed it to her several times, I have insisted by trying to make her understand that the interests of her children, their safety, imperiously demanded this separation, but she refused; you know how dearly she loves me. She is divided between the love she bears me, and her affections for her children, and she cannot make up her mind; as for me, I dare not force her to leave me, and hence my perplexity is extreme."

The general turned his head away, and subdue............