e Irishman stopped their plate-licking and looked up.

"Hush! go on with your dinners--not a word!" I read as follows:

_To-night your cords shall be cut, and you must escape as you best can
afterwards. Do not take the road back, as you will be certain to be
pursued in that direction; moreover, you run the risk of meeting other
parties of the guerilla. Make for the National Road at San Juan or
Manga de Clavo. Your posts are already advanced beyond these points.
The Frenchman can easily guide you. Courage, Captain! Adieu_!

_P.S.--They waited for you. I had sent one to warn you; but he has
either proved traitor or missed the road. Adieu! adieu_!

"Good heavens!" I involuntarily exclaimed; "the man that Lincoln--."

I caught the paper into my lips again, and chewed it into a pulp, to
avoid the danger of its falling into the hands of the guerilla.

I remained turning over its contents in my mind. I was struck with the
masterly style--the worldly cunning exhibited by the writer. There was
something almost _unfeminine_ about it. I could not help being
surprised that one so young, and hitherto so secluded from the world,
should possess such a knowledge of men and things. I was already aware
of the presence of a powerful intellect, but one, as I thought,
altogether unacquainted with practical life and action. Then there was
the peculiarity of her situation.

Is she a prisoner like myself? or is she disguised, and perilling her
life to save mine? or can she be--Patience! To-night may unravel the
mystery.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

THE COBRA-DI-CAPELLO.

Up to this moment my intention had been engrossed with the contents of
the note, and I had no thought of looking outward. I raised myself on
tiptoe, stretching my neck as far as I could into the embrasure.

A golden sunlight was pouring down upon broad, green leaves, where the
palms grew wildly. Red vines hung in festoons, like curtains of scarlet
satin. There were bands of purple and violet--the maroon-coloured
morus, and the snowy flowers of the magnolia--a glittering opal.
Orange-trees, with white, wax-like flowers, were bending under their
golden globes. The broad plumes of the corozo palm curved gracefully
over, their points trailing downwards, and without motion.

A clump of these grew near, their naked stems laced by a parasite of the
lliana species, which rose from the earth, and, traversing diagonally,
was lost in the feat