noted by deeper tints of color. The country round had a sad, melancholy look in the gray of the evening that was creeping over all. It would have been imprudent to have turned, so I continued my march. In a short time I perceived in the distance a building of considerable size; no smoke rose above the roof. Indeed, it seemed quite deserted. It had probably been at one time a work-shop. I was confirmed in this opinion by the dilapidated state of the walls, and the large holes in the tiling. Just when Cecilio was alighting to assure himself that the place contained no inhabitant, a horseman issued from a by-road, and came galloping up with a carbine in his hand. He stopped suddenly on seeing me, and continued to look at me for some seconds with an air of fear and visible distrust. All at once he burst into a loud roar of laughter.
"You are not, then, Remigio Vasquez?" he inquired.
"I don't know him," I replied.
"Ah! Señor Cavalier, pardon me; I fancied it was Remigio Vasquez I was firing at."
Again the fellow laughed loudly, but added, in a tone of regret,
"Caramba! to say that I missed at twenty paces, when I had covered you too; but a sudden movement you made saved your life. Ah! but I am in deed sorry."
"Of having missed, no doubt. No more of that, if you please. The hour and the place seem quite suitable for my taking my revenge by blowing your brains out."
"For what?" cried he, slightly alarmed. "I thought you were my enemy; I was deceived. I fired at, and
