Y.

The soft blue light of morning was just perceptible along the eastern
horizon as we rode into the rancheria. I no longer felt hunger. Some
of the more provident of the rangers had brought with them well-filled
haversacks, and had made me welcome to the contents. From their
canteens I had satisfied my thirst, and Wheatley as usual carried his
free flask.

Relieved of the protracted strain upon my nerves--of fear and vigil--I
felt deadly weary, and scarcely undressing, I flung myself upon my
leathern _catre_, and at once fell asleep.

A few hours' repose had the desired effect, and restored both the
strength of my body and the vigour of my mind. I awoke full of health
and hope. A world of sweet anticipations was before me. The sky and
fortune were both smiling.

I made my toilette with some care--my _desayuna_ with less--and then,
with lighted cigar, ascended to my favourite lounge on the azotea.

The beautiful captive was in the midst of a crowd, proudly curving his
neck, as if conscious of the admiration he excited. The rangers, the
poblanas, the hucksters of the piazza, even some sulky leperos, stood
near, gazing with wondering eyes upon the wild-horse.

"Splendid present!" thought I--"worthy the acceptance of a princess!"

It had been my intention to make the offering in person--hence the care
bestowed upon my toilette. After more mature reflection, I abandoned
this design.

I was influenced by a variety of considerations--one among others, being
a delicate apprehension that a persona visit from me might compromise
the family at the hacienda. The _patriotic_ sentiment was every day
growing more intense. Even the acceptance of a present was a dangerous
matter; but the steed was not to be a gift--only a return for the
favourite that had fallen by my hand--and I was not to appear in the
character of a donor.

My sable groom, therefore, would convey the beautiful captive. Already
the white lazo, formed into a halter, was adjusted around the animal's
head, and the negro only awaited orders to lead him away.

I confess that at that moment I felt somewhat annoyed at the publicity
of my affair. My rough rangers were men of keen intelligence. I could
tell from some whispers that had reached me, that one and all of them
knew _why_ I had gone upon the wild hunt, and I dreaded their
good-humoured satire. I would have given something at that moment to
have rendered the steed invisible--to have been ab