hem it may be, I
know not; whether Tlaloc or his companion Matlacuezc."

"I suppose it makes no difference," suggested the negro.

"Matlacuezc," continued Costal, "would be easily known. She is a
goddess; and, of course, a female. She always appears in a white robe--
pure and white as the blossom of the _floripondio_. When her hair is
not wound around her head, it floats loosely over her shoulders, like
the mantilla of a senora of high degree. Her eyes shine like two stars,
and her voice is sweeter than that of the mocking-bird. For all that,
her glance is terrifying to a mortal, and there are few who could bear
it."

"Oh, I can bear it," said the negro; "no fear of that."

"Tlaloc," continued Costal, "is tall as a giant. His head is encircled
with a chaplet of living serpents, that, entwined among his hair, keep
up a constant hissing. His eye is full of fire, like that of the
jaguar; and his voice resembles the roaring of an angry bull. Reflect,
then, while it is yet time, whether you can bear such a sight as that."

"I have told you," replied Clara, in a resolute tone, "that I wish for
gold; and it matters little to me whether Tlaloc or his wife shows me
the _placer_ where it is to be found. By all the gods, Christian and
pagan! I have not come thus far to be frightened back without better
reason than that. No!"

"You are firmly resolved, comrade? I see you are. Now, then--I shall
proceed to invoke my gods."

On saying these words, the Indian took up a large stone, and advancing
to the boulder of obsidian, struck the stone against one of its angles
with all his might. The collision produced a sound resembling that of a
brazen instrument; in fact, like the stroke of a bell.

Twelve times did Costal repeat the stroke, each time with equal force.
The sounds echoed over the waters of the lake, and through the aisles of
the forest on its shores; but their distant murmurings had scarce died
upon the air, when a response came from the woods. This was given in a
series of the most frightful howlings--the same which had terrified
Captain Lantejas upon his tree, and which Don Mariano had found himself
unable to explain.

Clara partook of a terror almost equal to that of Don Cornelio, but it
arose from a different cause. He had no other belief, but that the
howling thus heard was the response vouchsafed by the pagan gods to the
invocation of his companion. After a moment his confidence became
restored