owards the Mexican, who, understanding nothing of English, was
evidently holding himself ready for any measures of a hostile character.

"Going to Austin," at last said the Friar. "You are a merchant, then?"

"No," said I, smiling superciliously; "I am a mere traveller for
pleasure, my object being to make a tour of the prairies, and by some of
the Mexican cities, before my return to Europe."

"Heaven guide and protect you," said he, fervently, with a wave of
his hand like leave-taking. "This is not a land to wander in after
nightfall. You are well mounted, and a good rider; push on, then, my
son, and you 'll reach Bexar before the moon sets."

"If that be your road, Father," said I, "as speed is no object with me,
I 'd rather join company with you than proceed alone."

"Ahem!" said he, looking confused, "I am going to Bexar, it is true,
Senhor; but my journey is of the slowest: the wagon is heavy, and a sick
companion whom it contains cannot travel fast. Go, then, 'con Dios!' and
we may meet again at our journey's end."

"My mare has got quite enough of it," said I, my desire to remain with
him being trebled by his exertions to get rid of me. "When I overtook
you, I was determining to dismount and spare my beast; so that _your_
pace will not in the least inconvenience me."

The Padre, instead of replying to me, addressed some words to the
Mexican in Spanish, which, whatever they were, the other only answered
by a sharp slap of his palm on the stock of his rifle, and a very
significant glance at his girdle, where a large bowie-knife glittered
in all the freedom of its unsheathed splendor. As if not noticing this
pantomime, I drew forth my "Harper's Ferry pistol" from the holster, and
examined the priming,--a little bit of display I had the satisfaction
to perceive was not thrown away on either the Friar or the layman. At
a word from the former, however, the latter began once again his
operations with the pole, the Friar resuming his place beside the cattle
as if totally forgetful of my presence there.

"May I ask the object of this proceeding, Father?" said I, "which,
unless it be a 'devotional exercise,' is perfectly unaccountable to me."

The Padre looked at me without speaking; but the sly drollery of his eye
showed that he would have had no objection to bandy a jest with me, were
the time and place more fitting. "I perceive," said he, at length, "that
you have not journeyed in this land, or you would have kn