and a clash of swords. Presently Mr. P.'s servant knocked for admission, and told us that a man had been killed a few doors off by a sword-cut across the head. Instead of going out to gratify an idle curiosity, like prudent men we secured the door. The tramping passed up the street, and presently we heard reports of firearms. The whole place seemed to be in an uproar. We had hardly lain down again before there was another knock at the door. Our host, a respectable old man, with his wife, slept in a back room, and, afraid of rioters, they had a consultation about opening it. The former was unwilling to do so, but the latter, with a mother's apprehensions, said that she was afraid some accident had happened to Chico. The knocking continued, and Raffael, a known companion of their son, cried out that Chico was wounded. The old man rose for a light, and, apprehending the worst, the mother and a young sister burst into tears. The old man sternly checked them, said that he had always cautioned Chico against going out at night, and that he deserved to be punished. The sister ran and opened the door, and two young men entered. We could see the glitter of their swords, and that one was supporting the other; and, just as the old man procured a light, the wounded man fell on the ground. His face was ghastly pale, and spotted with blood; his hat cut through the crown and rim as smoothly as if done with a razor, and his right hand and arm were wound in a pocket-handkerchief, which was stained with blood. The old man looked at him with the sternness of a Roman, and told him that he knew this would be the consequence of his running out at night; the mother and sister cried, and the young man, with a feeble voice, begged his father to spare him. His companion carried him into the back room; but before they could lay him on the bed, he fell again and fainted. The father was alarmed, and when he recovered, asked him whether he wished to confess. Chico, with a faint voice, answered, As you please. The old man told his daughter to go for the padre, but the uproar was so great in the street that she was afraid to venture out. In the meantime we examined his head, which, notwithstanding the cut through his hat, was barely touched; and he said himself that he had received the blow on his hand, and that it was cut off. There was no physician nearer than Guatimala, and not a person that was able to do anything for him. I had had some practice in medicine, but none in surgery; I knew, however, that it was at all events proper to wash and cleanse the wound, and with the assistance of Don Manuel's servant, a young Englishman whom Don Manual had brought from the United States, laid him on a bed. This servant had had some experience in the brawls of the country, having
