was suspended, and his countenance changed at
once, from the listless apathy of pain to an expression of eager
interest. A young girl was in the window, leaning her forehead against
the _reja_, or grating, and looking down with more of painful interest
than curiosity upon the pale face beneath her. It was the window of
the _entresol_, slightly raised above the street, and the young girl
herself was evidently of that class known to the aristocracy of Mexico
as the "leperos." She was tastefully dressed, however, in the
picturesque costume of her class and country, and her beautiful black
hair, her dark Indian eye, the half olive, half carmine tinge upon her
soft cheek, formed a countenance at once strange, and strikingly
beautiful. Her neck, bosom, and shoulders, seen over the window-stone,
were of that form which strikes you as possessing more of the oval
than the rotund, in short the model of the perfect woman.

On seeing the gaze of the wounded man so intently fixed upon her, the
young girl blushed, and drew back. The officer felt disappointed and
sorry, as one feels when the light, or a beautiful object is suddenly
removed from his sight; still, however, keeping his eyes intently
fixed upon the window, as though unable to unrivet his gaze. This
continued for some moments, when a beautiful arm was plunged through
the iron grating, holding in the most delicate little fingers a glass
of pi[~n]al.

A soldier stepped up, and taking the proffered glass, held it to the
lips of the wounded officer, who gladly drank of the cool and
refreshing beverage, without being able to thank the fair donor, who
had withdrawn her hand at parting with the glass. The glass was held
up to the window, but the hand that clutched it was coarse and large,
and evidently that of a man. A muttered curse, too, in the Spanish
language, was heard to proceed from within. This was heard but
indistinctly. The invalid gazed at the window for some minutes,
expecting the return of the beautiful apparition, then as if he had
given up all hope, he called out a "gracias-adios!" and ordered the
escort to move on. The soldiers, once more shouldering the litera,
passed up the Calle Correo, and entered the Hotel Compagnon, in the
street of Espiritu Santo.

For two months the invalid was confined to his chamber, but often,
during that time, both waking and dreaming, the face of the beautiful
Mexican girl would flit across his fevered fancy. At the end of this
t