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168 "No," he said, "Luzecita waits me at the convent. Not to go to see her would plunge her into the deepest grief. No one can escape their destiny."

We talked together a short time longer. As he insensibly lapsed into a gloomy mood, I tried to jest with him upon our actual position.

"As for me," I said, "I shall be more prudent than you. I am going to bury myself in the deepest mine I can find, and it will be a terrible thing if this horrid Verdugo meets me eighteen hundred feet below ground."

We separated, Don Jaime to the convent, and I to visit one of the most easily accessible mines in the neighborhood. As I was crossing the square on my way to the outskirts of the town, I fancied I distinguished the well-known face of Florencio Planillas at the door of a pulqueria. Delighted at having this opportunity of undeceiving him as to the intention of Remigio Vasquez, or rather Don Jaime, I went up to the door, in spite of the repugnance I have for these Mexican cabarets, where both men and women sit drinking that abominable liquor prepared from fermented pulque. Whether Florencio had seen, and wished to avoid me, I know not; at any rate, he disappeared into the shop. The life of Don Jaime doubtless depended on the interview I was going to have with Florencio. I stepped over some drunkards, quite intoxicated, who were lying, clothed in rags, across the doorway, and entered the pulqueria. What a fantastical appearance met my eye! The walls were covered with frescoes of the most incredible nature, representing ancient grotesque personages, pictures of