you may hear something. Come early--not to the house.
Be in time for _oration_. You will find me in the church. Perhaps you
may see Antonio. If so, give him this." A diamond set in a golden
circlet sparkled a moment at the tips of the lady's fingers, and then
lay hid in the shut fist of the poblana. "Tell him _for whom_--he need
not know who sent it. There is money for your expenses, and some to
give her; or give it to her mother, _if they will accept it_." Here a
purse fell in Josefa's lap. "Bring me news! oh, bring me news, dear
Josefa! _Adios! adios_!"

The last salutation was uttered hurriedly; and, as the lady pronounced
it, she wheeled her glossy mustang and galloped back towards the town.

She need not have doubted that Josefa would fulfil her instructions
about "remaining below until the morning!" for the poblana was nearly,
if not quite, as much interested as herself in this journey. The rather
pretty Josefa chanced to be the sweetheart of the half-blood Antonio;
and whether she saw Antonio or not, she was not likely to hurry back
that night. If she did see him, so much the pleasanter to remain; if
not, she should remain in the hope of such an event.

With a full purse of "pesos"--a sixth of which would pay all expenses--
and the prospect of meeting with Antonio, the rough carreta seemed all
at once transformed to an elegant coach, with springs and velvet
cushions,--such as Josefa had heard of, but had never seen!

The kind-hearted girl readjusted the seats, placed the head of Rosita on
her lap, spread her reboso over her to keep off the evening dew, and
then told the peon to move on. The latter uttered a loud "ho-ha!"
touched his oxen with the goad, and once more set them in motion along
the dusty road.

CHAPTER FORTY.

Early morning prayer in the "iglesia" is a fashionable custom among the
senoras of Mexico--particularly among those who dwell in cities and
towns. Close upon the heels of daybreak you may see them issuing from
the great doors of their houses, and hurrying through the streets
towards the chapel, where the bell has already begun its deafening
"ding-dong." They are muffled beyond the possibility of recognition--
the richer in their silken shawls and mantas, the poorer in their
slate-coloured rebosos; under the folds of which each carries a little
bound volume--the "_misa_."

Let us follow them into the sacred temple, and see what passes there.

If we arrive late, and t