, and we were wrapped in obscurity; Indians kept
crossing our path at every step, and the lamps were here and there
shining out through the dark. The Rio Bianco barred our passage; but
large stones, placed at intervals in the river, enabled us to cross it
almost dry-shod. Then Gringalet suddenly barked, and darted off like an
arrow.

Twenty minutes after, we entered Orizava by some of the side streets, to
prevent a crowd following at our heels. When we were about fifty paces
from our house, Lucien and l'Encuerado darted off at a racing pace; they
found all the inmates of our home assembled on the threshold. Gringalet
had announced our arrival.

When I entered the court-yard, Lucien and his mother were sobbing in one
another's arms; Emile, Hortense, and Amelie were grouped round the
basket, on which Janet and Verdet were sitting. I noticed, standing in a
corner, the cases which had been intrusted to Torribio.

L'Encuerado came and leaned against the door of the room, twisting the
broad brim of his hat quite out of shape.

"If it had not been for him," I said to my wife, "we should have died!"

The brave Indian stooped and kissed the hands of his mistress.

My children, who had gone out for a few minutes, now burst into the
room; they had ransacked the basket, and were disputing for poor
Rougette, who was placed in the fountain in the garden. Janet and
Verdet, perched on the back of a chair, stammered the names of Hortense
and Emile, as well as could be hoped. The two children became pale with
pleasure and surprise.

Just at this moment, Master Job, introduced by Gringalet, came and sat
down on the carpet, and allowed the children to caress him.

It was delightful to sit down to table surrounded by all the beings
dearest to my heart. L'Encuerado kept praising Lucien, who continued
exciting his mother's emotion by relating to her the principal incidents
of our journey.

"I am sure, mamma, that you will let me go with papa another time," said
Lucien. "Our collection is not finished yet, and it must be completed
sooner or later."

The young naturalist might be recognized in this question, for the
collector is ever insatiable.

His poor mother shook her head, and embraced her boy without replying.
But her silence seemed to show that she would not willingly expose her
son to the perils of a fresh journey.

[Illustration: Finis]

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

In this text