happily broken up, and followed by the death of a man, that necessity compelled me to seek my fortune in New Spain. To insure my success here, I possessed two valuable qualities, which rarely go together—I was a thorough master of law and offence. You yourself can acknowledge that my old humor of sword-playing has not yet left me; but I think, Señor Cavalier, I owe you some amends for the unintentional insult which I lately put upon you. To tell the truth, at that time I was just about to pass my sword through your body. Allow me to offer you, as a slight compensation for my rudeness, some tincture of rose water or Catalonian refino."
Without giving time for reply, the licentiate drew me to a table, where we sat down. My astonishment increased as I became more acquainted with this singular personage. It was not till after we had partaken of some slight refreshment that Don Tadeo would consent to listen to my business, which I told him as clearly and briefly as I could.
"Good!" said he; "you are seeking a debtor you can't find; but won't you tell his name?"
"Ah! his name is one that touches the sympathies of your brethren very nearly, for no one dares take up my case against him."
"Let's hear this terrible name. I am curious to know if it will have the same effect upon me."
"I'll tell it you in a whisper. His name is Don Pionisio Peralta!"
The licentiate never moved a muscle of his face.
"How much does he owe you?"
"Four hundred piastres."
"No more," said Don Tadeo, after a moment's silence. "Let us go to the terrace at the top of the
