is short carbine, believing hostilities to have
commenced, I took deliberate aim, and fired. He was sitting diagonally
towards me, and the ball, of nearly an ounce in weight, struck him high
up the chest; and I venture to assert, upon the well-known virtues of
Mons. Devisme's weapons, on the boulevarde Poissonierre, that it went
through and through him, I saw his carbine fall to the ground, and heard
him exclaim, with both hands pressing the breast, _Madre de Dios!_ I
myself was of the opinion, that the sooner he said his prayers the
better, and although I felt a twinge of regret at what had taken place,
it was speedily dissipated; for at the same moment there were three or
four reports--two of them from persons on foot, inside the hedge; but
not hearing even the whistling of the bullets, I judged their aim had
been somewhat inaccurate. Giving my horse the rein and spur, I went
flying along the road. One of the mounted gentlemen alone followed in
pursuit, and finding I had the heels of him, I held my nag well in,
until I had disengaged the remaining weapon, when, halting suddenly, I
cried, _Venga mi compadre, para el cambio_--come and take your revenge.
The instant of perceiving the movement, he fired a pistol at random,
shouted _punetero!_--wheeled rapidly into the thickets, and was out of
sight. He was at too great a distance to make sure of him, or I
certainly should have saved the _garotte_ a wrench. The old adage
preserved him: _El diablo siempre cuida por los suyos_--the devil
regards his darlings. Once more giving my willing beast the bit, I never
ceased running for five leagues; as for my leg, I had forgotten all
about it. Overtaking the little guide, we slackened our pace. But the
trouble was not ended, for presently the diligence came in sight, and as
we approached, what was my surprise and dismay, to observe an individual
on the box deliberately level a blunderbuss at my head, and never remove
his aim until the coach was lost to view! _Bueno!_ thought I; this is
diverting--first to shoot a thief, and then be mistaken for one!

Dismounting at a small pulperia, near an extensive _hacienda_, I bathed
my lame limb in muscal, and reloaded the pistol; during which last
operation, the patron of the grog-shop, who looked something villanous
in the visage, interrogated the boy, who afterwards informed me that the
wounded rogue on the black horse was one Senor Felipe, an intimate
friend of the pulperia man, and greatly