ed
with blood. Don Cornelio at once recognised the young Spaniard--the
proprietor of the hacienda San Carlos--the victim of Arroyo's ferocity,
and of the cupidity of his associate.

The dying man, on seeing Costal, cried out--

"Oh! do not harm me--I have not long to live."

Lantejas made signs for this Zapoteque to step aside; and bending over
the _litera_, with kind and affectionate speeches endeavoured to calm
the apprehensions of the unfortunate sufferer.

"Thanks! thanks!" murmured the latter, turning to Don Cornelio with a
look of gratitude. "Ah, Senor!" continued he, in a supplicating tone,
"perhaps you can tell me--have you seen anything of her?"

The interrogatory caused a new light to break upon him to whom it was
addressed. He at once remembered the phantom which he had seen while
approaching the hacienda; the white form that had vanished into the
woods, and again the same apparition just seen among the reeds. Both,
no doubt, were one and the same unfortunate creature. Twice, then, had
he seen living, one whom the young Spaniard was never likely to see
again, except as a corpse.

"I have seen no one," replied Don Cornelio, hesitating in his speech,
and unwilling to make known his dread suspicions, "no one, except two
brigands, who had hidden themselves in the thicket, and who are now--"

"Oh! Senor, for the love of God, search for her! She cannot be far
from this place. I am speaking of my wife. We have found just now her
silk scarf, and not far off this slipper. Both I know to be hers. She
must have dropped, them in her flight. Oh! if I could only once more
see her--embrace her--before I die!"

And so speaking the young man bent a look of suppliant anguish upon Don
Cornelio, while exhibiting the two objects which his attendants had
found upon the path, and which had served to guide them in their search.

Don Cornelio, unable longer to endure the painful interview, allowed the
curtains of the _litera_ to close over the wretched husband; and,
stepping aside, rejoined the Zapoteque--who was still giving vent to his
anger in strong and emphatic phraseology.

"Costal," said the Captain, "I fear very much that the wife of this
young Spaniard is no longer alive. I saw a woman robed in white down
there among the reeds, just as the brigand fired his carbine; and from
what I saw afterwards, I am afraid that she must have been hit by the
bullet. Surely it must have been her that they are now se