His course of argument was too direct and forcible to be oppugned; Margarita rose as its meaning reached her, and signified her willingness to go at once to the altar. The count turned to one of his followers and said— “Go to Father Aneres, and tell him that we will be ready by the time he can reach the altar.” The man approached the door of the room where we have seen the good _padre_ recruiting his exhausted strength. He was met at the door by young Eltorena, dressed in a white cassock, and holding a censer in his hand, as if in attendance upon the priest. “The good Father,” said the young man, “is in his closet, but will meet them in the chapel in five minutes.” The man returned to his master, and the procession at once marched toward the chapel. A room fitted up for this purpose is to be found in almost all the larger _haciendas_ of that part of Mexico—its size and splendor depending upon the wealth and piety of the proprietor. That at _Piedritas_ had been somewhat neglected of late, but was still a respectable chapel. It was separated from the priest’s room—where Eltorena had sought the _padre_—by two partitions, between which was the private closet; and leading out of this was a door which opened behind the altar. It was through this door that Father Aneres was to enter for the performance of the momentous ceremony. But the reader already knows that the good Father was not within, and therefore could not come forth. The procession entered the chapel in the following order. The count, holding the unwilling hand of his trembling bride, was succeeded by the two women, accompanied by his trusty lieutenant, who was to “give the bride away.” Then came three files of _rancheros_ with trailed arms—a desecration which the good Father, timid as he was, would not have permitted. Behind these, each between two soldiers, who jealously watched them, came Harding and Grant—borne in the procession, like the prisoners of ancient Rome, to grace the triumph of the conqueror! Then followed the remainder of the count’s band of free-companions, numbering, in all, about twenty. All the domestics of the family crowded in after, and the door was taken in charge by the trusty sentinel who had disobeyed his orders! The count dragged his bride to the chancel-rail, and, leaving her there for a few moments supported by her women, took upon himself the duties of master of the ceremonies. He placed his two prisoners directly behind the bride, well guarded however, so that they would have the satisfaction of seeing without the power of interfering. Behind them he ranged his followers in a compact mass, and directing the _peons_ to seat themselves in the rear, he ordered the sentinel to close the door, but not to leave it. Returning then to the chancel-railing, he resumed his place beside Margarita, and took her cold and trembling hand in his.