y knew; and so Mijo left me to recruit
myself by one day's rest, and on "the morrow" to begin my labors.

I shall never forget the strange _melange_ of feelings, pleasurable and
the reverse, which came over me as I first found myself alone, and had
time to think over my condition. Many would perhaps have said that the
degradation would have mastered all other thoughts, and that the life to
which I was reduced would have tended to break down all self-respect
and esteem. Whether to my credit or otherwise, I know not, but I did
not feel thus,--nay, I even went so far as to congratulate myself that
a source of livelihood was open to me which did not involve me in forced
companionship, and that I might devote so many hours of each day to my
own undisturbed thoughts, as I wandered about that vast garden, in which
no other than myself appeared ever to set foot.

Culture it had none, nor seemed to need, it; one of my duties was to
pluck the ripe fruit every day, ere I issued forth to the "Well," and
place the baskets at the Senhora's door; and, save this, I believe all
was left to nature. What a wilderness of rank luxuriance it was! The
earth had become so fertilized by the fallen fruit left to rot as it
fell, that the very atmosphere was loaded with the odor of peaches and
oranges and pomegranates. A thousand gaudy and brilliant flowers, too,
glittered among the tall grass that tried to overtop them; and insects
and creatures of colors still more beauteous fluttered and chirped among
the leaves, making a little chorus of sounds that mingled deliciously
with the rippling stream that murmured near.

CHAPTER XXV. LA SEnHORA

To this very hour I am unable to say how long I remained at the village
of La Noria. Time slipped away unchronicled; the seasons varied little,
save for about two winter mouths, when heavy snows fell, and severe cold
prevailed; but spring followed these with a suddenness that seemed
like magic, and then came summer and autumn, as it were, blended into
one,--all the varied beauties of the one season vying with the other.
This was all that was wanting to complete the illusion which
the monotony of my daily life suggested; for me there was no
companionship,--no link that bound me to my fellow-men; the "Sunday,"
too, "shone no Sabbath-day for me." The humble range of my duties never
varied; nor, save with Mijo, did I ever exchange even a passing word.
Indeed, the hours of _my_ labor were precisely those wh