ue fulfilment. Jago
descends the rocky path, and whispers a few words in his ear, the effect
of which is to make Carlos start back and salute the patriot captain with
far more respect than a young aristocrat could have been expected to show
to a mule-driver.

Considering that neither Spain nor Mexico are very safe countries for Don
Manuel after what has occurred, Jago offers to have him put safely on
board an English or American vessel; but the young man is too much
agitated to decide upon any thing. Preparations are now made to leave the
scene of the recent conflict, previously to which, however, many of the
dragoons join the ranks of the patriots. To this Count Carlos objects, as
contrary to the conditions.

"It is the men's own wish," replied Jago in a jesting tone. "We fight for
liberty, Conde, and it were hard measure to refuse it to our new allies."

And smiling significantly, he lifted up his voice and sang--

"Amigos, la libertad
Nos llama a la lid,
Juremos por ella
Morir como el Cid!"

"Good God!" exclaimed the count, "that voice! Pedrillo!"

Before Carlos has recovered from his surprise at recognising the voice of
the masked cavalier who played so important a part in the earlier scenes
of the book, the patriots divide into three parties, and set off in as
many different directions, singing in chorus the song which their leader
had commenced. Carlos and Manuel find themselves separated alike from each
other, and from the mysterious and Protean patriot captain. We shall
attach ourselves to the fortunes of Don Manuel, and extract the chapter
which records his night march, and terminates this episode.

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-THIRD.

"Away, away, my steed and I,
Upon the pinions of the wind,
All human dwellings left behind;
We sped like meteors through the sky,
When with its crackling sound the night
Is chequer'd with the northern light."

_Mazeppa._

In the same wild and abrupt manner in which the song had commenced, did it
suddenly cease as the party entered the forest, the intricacies and
ravines of which it required all their attention to thread with safety. No
more torches were left alight than were absolutely necessary to find the
way over and along the dangerous fissures and precipices which met them at
every turn. Here and there were still to be seen traces of the paths hewn
in the rock by the unspeakable labour of Cortes' infatuated a