he Mexican, who,
however, delicately refrained from making remark.

Nor was Cris hindered from having a smoke as well as a "chew,"--the
mayor-domo soon after appearing with a pipe, a somewhat eccentric affair
he had fished out from the back regions of the establishment.

Meanwhile their host had himself lit one of the "Emperors," and was
smoking away like a chimney. A somewhat comical sight at any time, or
in any place, is a monk with a cigar in his mouth. But that the Abbot
of the Cerro Ajusco was no anchorite they were already aware, and saw
nothing in it to surprise them.

Seating himself beside Kearney, with face turned towards the valley, he
put the question--

"What do you think of that landscape, Don Florencio?"

"Magnificent! I can't recall having looked upon lovelier, or one with
greater variety of scenic detail. It has all the elements of the
sublime and beautiful."

The young Irishman was back in his college classics with his countryman
Burke.

"Make use of this," said the Abbot, offering a small telescope which he
drew out. "'Twill give you a better view of things."

Taking the glass and adjusting it to his sight, Kearney commenced making
survey of the valley, now bringing one portion of it within the field of
telescopic vision, then another.

"Can you see the Pedregal?" asked the Abbot. "It's close in to the
mountain's foot. You'll recognise it by its sombre grey colour."

"Certainly I see it," answered the other, after depressing the
telescope. "And the thicket we came through on its further side--quite
distinctly."

"Look to the right of that, then you'll observe a large house, standing
in the middle of the maguey fields. Have you caught it?"

"Yes; why do you ask?"

"Because that house has an interest for me--a very special one. Whom do
you suppose it belongs to; or I should rather say did, and ought to
belong to?"

"How should I know, holy father?" asked Kearney, thinking it somewhat
strange his being so interrogated. "True," responded the Abbot; "how
could you, my son? But I'll tell you. That _magueyal_ is mine by
right, though by wrong 'tis now the property of our late host, the
Governor of the Acordada. His reward at the last confiscation for
basely betraying his country and our cause."

"What cause?" inquired the young Irishman, laying aside the glass, and
showing more interest in what he heard than that he had been looking at.
Country and cause! These were not the