utter wantonness by their brutal owners. The
ground in front of the house was strewed with broken furniture, and
with articles of wearing apparel, the latter of which appeared to have
belonged to the Carlists, and to have been exchanged by them for
others of a better description found in the house. Empty bottles,
fragments of food, and a couple of wine-skins, of which the greater
part of the contents had been poured out upon the ground, lay
scattered about near the carcass of a horse and three human corpses,
two of the latter being those of Carlists, and the third that of one
of the defenders of the house. A few peasants stood by, looking on in
open-mouthed stupefaction; and above the whole scene of desolation, a
thick cloud of black smoke floated like a funereal pall.

In an agony of suspense Luis enquired for his father. The peasant to
whom he addressed the question, pointed to the buildings in rear of
the house, which the Carlists, weary perhaps of the work of
destruction, had left uninjured.

"Don Manuel is there," said he, "if he still lives."

The latter part of the sentence was drowned in the noise of the
horse's feet, as Luis spurred furiously towards the buildings
indicated, which consisted of barns, and of a small dwelling-house
inhabited by his father's steward. On entering the latter, his worst
fears were realized.

Upon a bed in a room on the ground floor, Don Manuel Herrera was
lying, apparently insensible. His face was overspread with an ashy
paleness, his eyes were closed, his lips blue and pinched. He was
partially undressed, and his linen, and the bed upon which he lay,
were stained with blood. A priest stood beside him, a crucifix in one
hand and a cordial in the other; whilst an elderly peasant woman held
a linen cloth to a wound in the breast of the expiring man. In an
adjacent room were heard the sobbings and lamentations of women and
children. With a heart swollen almost to bursting, Luis approached the
bed.

"Father!" he exclaimed as he took Don Manuel's hand, which hung
powerless over the side of the couch--"Father, is it thus I find you!"

The voice of his son seemed to rouse the sufferer from the swoon or
lethargy in which he lay. He opened his eyes, a faint smile of
recognition and affection came over his features, and his feeble
fingers strove to press those of Luis. The priest made a sign to the
woman, and, whilst she gently raised Don Manuel's head, he held the
cordial to his lips