patriots' at a village near Santiago.

Don Manuel is of course a constant visitor at Don Benigno's, but I do
not envy him the term of courtship which precedes the marriage, nor is
the ceremony itself very inviting.

In his capacity of lover, Don Manuel is bound to submit to many
hardships. He may not meet his fiancee alone under any circumstances;
her society must be enjoyed only in the presence of the numerous friends
and relatives who visit her at all hours of the day and evening. Then,
he is expected to return some of these visits, in company with his
future bride, her mother and sister. He must also submit to certain
formalities required of him by the priest who is to unite the 'promessi
sposi,' and the most irksome of these is that of confession. Paquita
confesses, and that is nothing new to her, but it is otherwise with the
young officer. In short, until Don Manuel is actually a happy husband,
his position is by no means enviable, and for my own part, I would
gladly relinquish two years of married life in Cuba for half an hour's
secret love-making at a certain grated window!

The wearisome ordeal at length comes to an end--the nuptial day arrives.
The ceremony, such as it is, takes place very late in the night; indeed,
it is early morning before Don Manuel and his male friends reach the
cathedral, where the event is to be celebrated. A single bell tolls like
a funeral knell as we enter a small chapel connected with the sacred
edifice. It is a dreary apartment, dismally lighted with two long wax
candles. Nobody is present, save Don Manuel, the male friends already
mentioned, and the sacristan, who enlivens us by trying (and failing) to
beautify, with false flowers and false candles, a miserable altar-piece
at one extremity of the chapel. The young officer's importance as a
bridegroom is not at present appreciated, either by himself or by his
friends, with whom he converses upon indifferent subjects, and who, like
myself, are attired in ordinary walking costume.

Presently a Quitrin, drawn by a couple of mules, with a black postilion
in jack-boots, halts without. The bride, accompanied by her mother and a
friend, alight, and, without taking notice of anybody in particular,
pass silently into the chapel. The importance of Don Manuel's position
does not reveal itself by this act, nor is it considerably improved,
when the ecclesiastic, who is to marry the happy pair, emerges from a
dark corner, smiles artificially a