anent that colleen,' he said. 'The left soide of me body is as wake as wather-ghruel,' he sung; and he Vowed he'd be the death of the "pra-Adamite" husband-auld Meetoosalah Pedro-he would!'

But

6

6

notwithstanding these menaces the Don walked in peace, and took matters very quietly. He did not appear to notice O'Grady's predilections, or to dispute his pretty cara sposa's right to an open flirtation; they all do it,' so why not his better-half? He still puffed away at his principes and regalias, still smothered himself in his roquelaure, still treated my friend with the greatest politeness and courtesy, and was still always placing the 'tree auld cheers' and 'the sleep of keyarpet' at his service.

lots of

Well, one night there was a fête at the palace of the Governor, El Conde de Pocos Pesos. His excellency gave us lots of good music from the military bands of the garrison; brilliant light from his countrypressed oil; lots of grapes, oranges, dates, and figs from the gardens hard by; lots of sour Canary wine; but little-precious littlein the way of substantial meats and drinks. It could not be called a ruinous entertainment, and probably cost the Count three or four dollars good and lawful coin of Spain. We soon got wearied of the whole affair, O'Grady es

He

many a fascinating maid. ruthlessly crushed against dainty natural and artificial feminine configurations without regard to disarrangement or physical suffering. He scratched with the heavy bullion of his epaulettes the nude arms and shoulders of delicately cuticled brunettes without a word of apologetic sorrow; and he dug his spurred heels-he was our adjutant-into the skirts and shapely ankles of matrons and maids, and tore flounces and flesh without so much as asking pardon for the injuries. More than all, he aroused the indignation of Madam the Countess of Pocos Pesos-the great captain's captain by leaving untasted the fruit and acid vintage of her banquet, anathematising the whole turnout as a deuced rotten Barmacoide faste.' He was 'out of soorts,' he said; complately down on his

luck;' and he'd be off and take a moonloight stroll on the bache.' But instead of walking towards the bache, I see him follow the road to the Calle de la Reyna— Queen-street-in which my lady

Inez lives.

'That's not the way to the Atlantic, old man !' I shout after him.

'You be smothered!' he replies, goes on, and I turn towards mine inn.

But scarcely am I settled to my whisky and cigar, when in rushes

seizes my tumbler, and drains it at a draught.

'In the name of goodness,' I say, 'what's up? Where have you been? what on earth have you

for

mean.

He passed by flashing eyes

without a

glance at their lustre.

He disregarded the buenas noches, and other polite salutations of

VOL.

XXXVI. NO. CCXI.

'Doing! look here!' and strip

ping off his coat he shows me a

wound through the fleshy part of his left arm, which had saturated his sleeve with blood, and from which the gore was still oozing.

D

'Great Heavens!' I exclaim, 'how's this? What row have you been in? Who has wounded you after this fashion?'

'Don't be after making a fuss, Tim,' he says, 'it's nothing-nothing to what oi gave Carlos de Garrido, leeftenant of artillery stationed here,-ye know the baste, and who, belave me, won't be able to show on parade wid his guns for a month to come. Oi didn't go to the say, as ye know. Oi went to have a quiet chat and a dish of tay wid Inez, wid the Señora Povero Diabolo. Oi mane oi'd fraquently been before, and oi fancy me prisence was welcome. Well, the tay, or rather some voile chocolate, had been sarved, and oi was telling me lady in me best Spanish of Pocos Pesos' fate,-whew!-from the Powers ounly knows where, Carlos de Garrido tares into the room, blurts out a word or two oi don't understand, then draws a stiletto, and widout By your lief, or Wid your lief, dales me a prod, the coward! Faith, he staggered me a bit; but oi was on me pins in a jiffey. Oi wrenched the wapon from his hand, and letting drive-one, two-right from the shoulder, hit full into his face, reeled him over, and oi think that of have irremadially damaged his big Rooman nose, and deesposed of two or tree of those tobacco-doyed teet of his down his ugly troat. Inez scramed, clung to me arum, intrated me to spare her coozen-maybe he was her coozen, though the family loikeness isn't strong-and then fainted away. Oi left her loying sinseless in one corner of the flure, Garrido blading in another, and here oi am. Sind for some more dhrink, Tim; for oi'm hated and favered, and thin we'll be talking the mather over in pace.'

Betimes next day in walks

Don Pedro to Dickson's, and seeks an interview with O'Grady. The old caballero is more polite than ever; he bows and scrapes; figuratively he kisses Teddy's hands and feet; assures him of his exalted estimation; and ends. by requesting the honour of crossing swords with him that evening in the gardens at the end of the town. He adds that he must vindicate the honour of his house, and keep from scandal his young wife's reputation. He has evidently got hold of the wrong end of the story, for he makes no allusion to the artillery cousin, nor to the dagger-stab still smarting and paining the man he is addressing; he merely, over and over again, insists on fighting. O'Grady tells him that he has not the least objection to fight ; indeed, as an Irishman, he is rather given that way; but that upon much the same principle that he would not marry a woman old enough to be his grandmother, he'd as lief not fight a gentleman of sufficient years to be his grandfather, and which Don Pedro certainly is. Upon which the Don's blood is more up than ever. He says that he is juvenility itself; that his feelings are young, if, indeed, his age is advancing; that he belongs to the best of nobility; and that no Spaniard, from the Cid down to Espartero, was ever too old for the duello. Fight he must, and fight he will.

'Bay it so,' says O'Grady; 'oi'm your man, and by the poiper that played befure Mowses, look out for squalls, for oi'll tache you

"what pirils do environ The man that meeddles wid cauld iron."

Adios, viva usted con Dios, as ye yoursels say in these paarts.'

So the meeting was settled; and at sundown O'Grady and I, with Castoroilo, the doctor, in attendance, sneak into the gardens as