lighted up feebly the victims who were lying promiscuously on the slabbed pavement, stained here and there with large patches of blood. Women, uttering the most piercing cries of sorrow, returned to the rusty grated window, though again and again pushed back by the soldiers. Their cries attracted the passers-by; some pitied them; others contented themselves with peering curiously in their faces. Kneeling before the grated window, his head uncovered, and the bridle of his richly-caparisoned horse in his hand, stood a man praying devoutly. From his costume you could easily see that he belonged to that opulent class of inhabitants of the Tierra Afuera, who disdain both the fashions and ideas of Europeans. His picturesque costume harmonized well with his manly and noble features. Above the right eyebrow of the stranger extended a long narrow scar. It was doubtless the handsome young cavalier whom Perico had that very morning described to me. Was he thanking God for preserving him from danger, or for loving and being loved? The question remained doubtful; besides, the emotions which gave rise to these conjectures were suddenly interrupted. Startled by the noise of the carriages, a refractory horse struck violently against a ladder, on the top of which a sereno (watchman) was lighting a lamp suspended from the walls of the bar rack of La Acordada. The sereno fell from a height of fifteen feet, and lay motionless on the pavement. It would be easy to describe the feelings of the unfortunate horseman when he saw the poor fellow lying un conscious, and perhaps dangerously injured; for the cavalier, I must own, was myself; but I prefer telling what followed.
Every one is well aware of the benevolent feelings
