ries, in exchange for their
"tickets of labor."

Of the Senhora, some mystery existed: the popular rumor was, that she
had been the favorite mistress of Santa Anna, whose influence, however,
could not rescue her from the fate of a convict, to which she was
sentenced for forgery. Her great patron contrived, however, to release
her from the indignity of a penal settlement, and placed her at "La
Noria," where she had resided two years. Some said that it was to
conceal herself from the prying curiosity of the vulgar; another, that
it was to hide the brand of the letter "F," burned with a hot iron in
her forehead; others, again, that it was by Santa Anna's express order
(but what the reason?) she always wore a black velvet mask, which, since
her arrival at the village, none had seen her remove.

A hundred stories, one more absurd than another, were circulated
about her high birth and condition, and the vast wealth she had once
possessed; the only real clew I could discover to these narratives
being the simple fact that her dog, a fierce English bull-dog,--my
own predecessor, and who by peculiar favor was permitted to accompany
her,--used to wear a massive silver collar, richly chased and
ornamented: fiction, indeed, had invested it with precious stones
and gems; but these were purely imaginative ornaments. Even devoid of
jewels, such was deemed an unequivocal proof of riches among those whose
poverty was of the very lowest order, and La Senhora Dias bought her
"millionnaire" character at a cheap price. To me, the most interesting
part in her story was that which called her my countrywoman; and yet
this seemed so unlikely, and was coupled with so much that I knew to be
impossible, that I did not venture to believe it.

It was the hour of the siesta when we reached "The Cat," so that I had
no opportunity of seeing the Senhora. Mijo conducted me to a little
building in the garden, originally built as a hut for a man who watched
the fruit, but latterly inhabited by Lupo. There I was installed at
once. Some chestnut-leaves were my bed; a small spring afforded me
water; I was to receive eight ounces of maize bread each day, with half
an ounce of coffee,--Lupo had "taken" the latter "out" in sausages.
Of the fruit of the garden, consisting of limes, oranges, peaches,
and mangoes, I was free of whatever fell to the ground,--a species
of black-mail that never failed me at the dessert. These were my
perquisites,--my duties I alread