"The times, but not the people. Hide them, let no man see them; or the pile will be kindled again; all will be lost--I cannot repair the loss a second time, for now I am old! Five years have I borne them with me, night and day, seeking for some one cunning and faithful, wise like thyself, to whom to commit them. I have found thee; thou art the man; I am satisfied: _buen provecho_, much good may they do you,--not you only, but your people,--not your people alone, but the world! Affection for country is love of mankind; true patriotism is philanthropy.--Five years have I borne them with me, by night and by day." "Really, I think that this betokened no great fear for their safety." The padre laughed. "Though the Gachupin and the bigot would rob me of a Spanish dissertation, yet neither would envy me the possession of a few rolls of hieroglyphics." As he spoke, he knelt upon the ground, untied the string that secured one of the apparent volumes, and, beginning to unfold the MS., as one would a very nicely secured traveller's map, displayed, in the moonlight, a huge sheet of maguey paper, emblazoned in gaudy colours with all kinds of inexplicable devices. As he exhibited his treasure, he looked up for approbation to the American. The '_pobre Yankee_' surveyed him with a humorous look: "Father," said he, "you have succeeded to admiration, under this goodly disguise, not only in concealing your wisdom from the penetration of your countrymen, but, as I think, the whole world." The padre raised his finger to his nose very significantly, saying, with a chuckle of delight,--the delight of a diseased brain in the success of its cunning,-- "This time, I knew I should throw dust in their eyes, even though they might demand, for their satisfaction, to look into my work. You perceive, that this volume, done up after the true manner of ancient Mexican books, unrolls from either end. The first pages, and the last, of each volume, contain duplicates of the first and the last chapters, done in Mexican characters: the rest is in Spanish, and, I flatter myself, in very choice Spanish. _Hoc ego recte_--I knew what I was about.--One does not smuggle diamonds in sausages, without stuffing in some of the minced meat.--Here is the jewel!" So saying, and spreading the sheet at its full length, so as to discover his hidden records, the padre rose to his feet, and began to dance about with exultation. "And what am _I_ to do with these volumes?" said the traveller, after pondering awhile over the manuscripts.