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118 me whether you were successful in finding the assassin of the Paseo of Bucareli."

"I was completely successful. I was lucky enough to fall in with the public scribe who had been employed to write those fatal lines which had enticed my mistress to the Paseo. The evangelist knew the wretch, and he set me on his track. I found him out. I had but to denounce him, and justice would have pounced upon him; but this would have defeated the object to which I had devoted my life. I did not betray him, therefore. Many years had rolled away since the attempt; and, during that time, on account of my intercourse with such characters, I had learned more to pity than hate them. Nay, I often employ them to do certain pieces of business for me, which Mexican justice gives up as impossible. The assassin is still a useful instrument for me; one, too, that I can crush at a word, but whom I prefer employing in the service of my numerous clients."

Another pause. The toll of the bell was still heard. "I never saw my beloved again, who is now in a convent," continued Don Tadeo; "but I learned from a sure quarter that she has been long in a deep consumption. You will now understand why the bell-peal of the Bernardines made me shudder."

I was trying to persuade Don Tadeo to descend, that he might no longer hear the dismal toll of the passing bell, when the trap-door of the azotea creaked lightly on its hinges, and the squint-eyed Mexican, called Navaja, glided rather than walked toward us. He was pale with fright, and looked uneasily behind him.

"He is the devil in person!" cried he, leaning to take breath against the railing of the azotea.

"Whom do you mean?" asked the licentiate.