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218 Mexico had been attended with annoyances of a most dangerous character. Well-organized bands of robbers turned the innovation to account, and not a diligence passed without being pillaged. The remembrances of my ancient relations with the Mexican salteadores, ordinarily so courteous to every traveler unencumbered with baggage, rendered the prospect of a similar humiliation very disagreeable. The pillaging part of the business was not a thing at all to my mind; besides, the idea of passing several days in a close carriage, drawn by four swift steeds, and bounding over a Mexican road rutted by heavy rains, and covered with large pieces of rock, was a mode of traveling not at all in accordance with my habits and tastes.

A mere accident caused me to decide what course to follow. Several merchants in Mexico, profiting by one of those political lulls so rare in the republic, were about to send a rich convoy of silver (conducta de platas) to Vera Cruz. Some muleteers were loading their mules with sacks of piastres, inclosed in little wooden boxes, in the great court of one of the houses in the street of Monterilla, where I lived. The sight of these preparations had drawn a great crowd of spectators around the gate, myself among the rest. When the mules had received their precious burden, they all instinctively huddled together in a corner of the court. A score of mozos de mulas (stable-helpers) kept up a running fire of oaths while at their work. Under the archway of the court the arriero brought matters to a close by signing the bills of lading, and invoking the Virgin and all the saints to give him a safe and successful trip, every now and then stopping to scold the helpers. In the street, the multitude speculated on