tly
real, was singularly combined with her habitual household cares. The
unusual demand for breakfast by fourteen hungry passengers had created
some little confusion, and the poor woman, instead of leaving these
matters to take care of themselves, felt the force of habit, and was
issuing a variety of orders to her assistant; nor was she unmindful
of her appearance, but had already changed her frock and stockings,
and thrown on her mantilla, preparatory to departure. It was indeed a
singular and piteous sight to see the poor perplexed woman changing some
fish that were frying, lest they should be burnt on one side, adjusting
and repinning her mantilla, and sobbing and crying all the while. When
the man came, however, to say that the mule was in readiness, every
thing was forgotten but the feelings of the mother, and she hurried
off in deep and unsuppressed affliction.

We may as well add here the catastrophe of this tragical tale. From
information received by the Lieutenant, after his arrival in Madrid, it
appears that poor Pepe breathed his last about eight hours after the
attack, and long before his widowed mother could arrive to close the
eyes of her child. The mayoral lingered for about a week, and then
shared the fate of Pepe. The three robbers were detected and taken into
custody; two of them were townsmen, and all three acquaintances of Pepe,
whom they had doubtless murdered to prevent discovery. We ourselves
passed over the scene of the robbery between two and three years after
the event: there were two crosses to mark the bloody spot. The mayoral
and the zagal of our diligence, the successors of those who had been
murdered, pointed to the crosses with the _sang froid_ with which
Spaniards, from long habitude, contemplate mementos of the kind. The
mayoral showed the very place where his predecessor had been beaten to
death. On our expressing horror at the detail he readily concurred,
though he appeared more indignant at the manner in which the crime had
been committed than at the crime itself. "It is the ugliest thing (_lo
mas feo_) that has been done in this neighbourhood for a long time
past. Look you, sir, to shoot a man with a blunderbuss, or to stab him
with a knife, is quite another kind of business; but to beat his brains
out with a stone is to treat him, not like a Christian, but a dog!" It
was evident that a frequent occurrence of such scenes had rendered the
mayoral a critic in the art of murder.