The floor was almost hidden under a profusion of mats and gaily wrought rugs. Fancy stools and comfortable divans were placed about the room in a kind of orderly disorder, relieving it from any appearance of disuse or exclusiveness. Across one corner of the room stood an especially attractive divan, over which was a glittering canopy, suspended from the beak of a dead _quanhtli_ (eagle.) From its elevated perch the bird's appearance was so natural that the first glance at it would cause the observer to hesitate before taking a seat beneath it. A second thought, however, would dispel the momentary delusion. Spread out on this divan was the preserved and decorated skin of a Mexican tiger-cat. The walls were adorned with gorgeous and beautiful hangings, the scintillating glimmer of the reflected light of the taper upon them, as they were gently moved by the force of a passing draught of air, producing a very agreeable effect. In every nook and corner were to be seen vases of odorous flowers, and images of animals or birds. On a wall-shelf, at one side of the room, was a peculiarly attractive pot of flowers, over which, suspended by a thread of gold so fine that it required a sharp eye to detect it, was poised a golden-hued hummingbird, apparently about to thrust its prying nib into the unexplored recesses of a half opened flower just below it. In a conspicuous place on the wall was a showy piece of feather-work, in which was blended the plumage of many birds. There were in it the changeful hues of the parrot, the brilliant colors of the pheasant, and others less attractive, all woven into a perfect representation of beautiful mosaic. As the prince took a seat his quick eye observed the exquisite surroundings; and through it all he saw Teochma's experienced hand. His mind reverted quickly to other times--his boyhood, and the home where once ruled a beloved mother, not less accomplished than Teochma. After a moment's silent contemplation of the apartment and its attractions, some of which were still familiar to him, he turned to his hostess and said: "The span of years which separate this hour from the past, when--a joyous, happy boy--I stood within this room, with no visible cloud upon the bright horizon of my future to warn me of the approaching storm and subsequent night of sorrow and despair which has followed, seems but a delusion--a horrible dream, from which I have only this moment awakened. And yet, O Teochma, my waking may be likened to a lucid interval in the mind of one crazed by delirium or the confusion of reason; for soon the gloom of my impending doom will hold and wrap me about, and this sweet reflection of the happy past be obscured in the blackness of darkness again." He paused, and, taking advantage of the pause, Teochma said: