The young ranger spoken of, was frequently placed upon picket guard at a point on the Cholula road, and had thus become acquainted with the sisters, with whom he seemed to be on terms of friendly intercourse. He was frequently seen to accompany them beyond the confines of the city on their return homeward, and at parting the beautiful Remedios would linger behind her sister, and concealed by the friendly shelter of a maguey plantation, bid him farewell with a kiss. It was evident that the passion between the ranger and the fair Cholulteca was mutual. Such was the state of affairs in the city. Let us follow the young girls to their native village at the foot of the far-famed pyramid. Under the shade of a huge pepper-tree, stood a small but neat cottage of adobes. In front of this cottage was a little garden filled with bright flowers, and fenced in by a close wall of the octagonal columns of nopal. Outside of the little garden grew the giant maguey planted closely in rows, and running alongside pathways which led to other cottages similar to the one above mentioned. Such pathways form the lanes and streets of a Mexican-Indian village. Over the cottage door is a little awning or shade formed by two or three poles and the broad leaves of the royal palm, and under this awning are seated the sisters Remedios and Dolores. They have been silent for some time, each busily engaged with her work, which consists in weaving the beautiful palm-baskets, that meet with such ready sale in the piazza. Dolores is no doubt thinking upon the profits which her work will yield, and how she will rejoice the heart of her old and helpless father, who has no other support. Dolores is the old man’s favorite, and returns his parental fondness with a heart full of filial love. The thoughts of Remedios are dwelling upon a far different object, and two or three times she has become so absent as to make strange mistakes in her work. Presently the fibre of palm which she has been weaving becomes entangled, and suddenly breaks. “What are you doing, Remedios?” asks her sister. Then adds with a somewhat malicious laugh, “Thinking of Don Santiago! But come, sister, see better to your work, or we will not have our baskets ready for to-morrow’s market, and then how you would be disappointed!” Remedios blushed, but made no other reply to the pleasantry of her sister. Dolores looked in her face, and noticing the blush, said in a more serious tone, “Ah, Remedios! if Pepe only knew.” “Knew what?” “Of Don Santiago.” “And if he did?” exclaimed the elder sister, while her dark eyes flashed with indignation, “what is Pepe to me. I never loved him, and I never told him I did—he has no right to me more than another!” At this moment a footstep reached the ears of the sisters, causing them to start and look up.