The Mexican, stunned and stupefied, did not wait for a repetition of the order, but shuffled off precipitately. I could not help complimenting Don Tadeo on his coolness and courage. "What of that?" he said, with a melancholy smile. "You know the university in which I took my degree. I value my life only at its true worth. Let us go below. I understand your case thoroughly; and, before many days are passed, I hope to have some good news for you."
We went down, and soon reached the great square upon which the Callejon del Arco opens. There we separated, the licentiate repairing to his abode, and I to mine, by the street Monterilla. "We shall meet again soon," said Don Tadeo to me on bidding me good-night. "I hope so," I replied, although I did not partake so heartily in that belief as did the intrepid lawyer. I could not help comparing Don Tadeo in my own mind with those wild-beast tamers, who often astonish us by their deeds of courage and address, but whose least false step may transform them from masters to victims.
CHAPTER IV.
Manner of taking Possession in Mexico.—Tragical End of the Assassin of the Paseo.
A month passed away without Don Tadeo giving any signs of life. At last a note, that he had sent me by his clerk Ortiz, explained the reason of his long delay. There were two causes that hindered my case from being proceeded with according to his customary activity. "One of these you may probably guess," he said. "The passing-bell that we heard tolling was
