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the zapote, the granadilla, the pitahaya, the tuna, the mamay; with dates, figs, almonds, plantains, bananas, and a dozen other species of fruits, piled upon salvers of silver, were set before us: in fact, every product of the tropical clime that could excite a new nerve of the sense of taste. We were fairly astonished at the profusion of luxuries that came from no one knew where.
    "Come, gentlemen, try a glass of curacoa. Senor Coronel, allow me the pleasure."
    "Sir, your very good health."
    "Senor Coronel, would you prefer a glass of Majorca?"
    "Thank you."
    "Or perhaps you would choosePedro Ximenes . I have some very oldPedro Ximenes ."
    "Either, my dear Don Cosme-either."
    "Bring both, Ramon; and bring a couple of bottles of the Madeira-sello verde ," (green seal).
    "As I am a Christian, the old gentleman's a conjuror!" muttered the major, now in the best humour possible.
    "I wish he would conjure up something else than his infernal wine bottles," thought I, becoming impatient at the non-appearance of the ladies.
    "Cafe, Senores?" A servant entered.
    Coffee was handed round in cups of Sevres china.
    "You smoke, gentlemen? Would you prefer a Havanna? Here are some sent me from Cuba by a friend. I believe they are good; or, if you would amuse yourself with a cigaritto, here are Campeacheanos. These are the country cigars-puros, as we call them. I would not recommend them."
    "A Havanna for me," said the major, helping himself at the same time to a fine-looking "regalia."
    I had fallen into a somewhat painful reverie.
    I began to fear that, with all his hospitality, the Mexican would allow us to depart without an introduction to his family; and I had conceived a strong desire to speak with the two lovely beings whom I had already seen, but more particularly with the brunette, whose looks and actions had deeply impressed me. So strange is the mystery of love! My heart had already made its choice.
    I was suddenly aroused by the voice of Don Cosme, who had risen, and was inviting myself and comrades to join the ladies in the drawing-room.
    I started up so suddenly as almost to overturn one of the tables.
    "Why, Captain, what's the matter!" said Clayley. "Don Cosme is about to introduce us to the ladies. You're not going to back out?"
    "Certainly not," stammered I, somewhat ashamed at mygaucherie .
    "He says they're in the drawing-room," whispered the major, in a voice that betokened a degree of suspicion; "but where the plague that is, Heaven only knows! Stand by, my boys!-are your pistols all right?"
    "Pshaw, Major! for shame!"
    * * *
    We hurried after Don Cosme towards theante-sala , both myself and my companions ignorant of this new object of dread.
    When we emerged from the stairway the scene that hailed us was one of terrific sublimity. Earth and heaven had undergone a sudden and convulsive change. The face of nature, but a moment since gay with summer smiles, was now hideously distorted. The sky had changed suddenly from its blue and sunny brightness to an aspect dark and portentous.
    Along the north-west a vast volume of black vapour rolled up over the Sierra Madre, and rested upon the peaks of the mountains. From this, ragged masses, parting in fantastic forms and groupings, floated off against the concavity of the sky as though the demons of the storm were breaking up from an angry council. Each of these, as it careered across the heavens, seemed bent upon some spiteful purpose.
    An isolated fragment hung lowering above the snowy cone of Orizava, like a huge vampire suspended over his sleeping victim.
    From the great "parent cloud" that rested upon the Sierra Madre, lightning-bolts shot out and forked hither and thither or sank into the detached masses-the messengers of the storm-king bearing his fiery mandates across the sky.
    Away along the horizon of the east moved the yellow pillars of sand, whirled upward by the wind, like vast columnar towers leading to heaven.
    The storm had not yet reached the rancho. The leaves